


You're only broken because of me, so let me be the one to cast your worries far out to sea

by ShadowInTheBackground



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AO3 1 Million, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Homophobic Language, M/M, Multiple Pov, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Occasional swearing, Slow Burn, The slowest-burning story ever written, Though not often because I am against homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 19:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 186
Words: 261,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowInTheBackground/pseuds/ShadowInTheBackground
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a pretty sick thing, really, how this is the first time he learns Louis’ full name.  Louis William Tomlinson; it rolls off of his tongue beautifully, like the tune of a songbird but the rest of the words are like bullets through his tongue and bombs on his lips.</p><p>They’re all there, numbered, categorised like they’re items in a catalogue, and it makes his stomach convulse and twinge painfully.  Each and everyone is photographed, plastered to the sheets of paper and labelled with dimensions and whatever the fuck else you can label bruises and cuts and scratches and grazes and slashes as.  </p><p>They’re all there, each and every type of injury that can come to mind, each and every variation of them stabbed deep into the fibres of the paper, but not just one sheet, or even two; there’s six.</p><p>Six sheets of marks and invisible pains that scattered Louis’ body, littering it and mottling each and every plane of tan skin, and marking it up in black and blue, splattering it in bloody crimson and sore-rubbed red and Niall’s countless 'I love you’s won’t change that, won’t fix it.  In fact, they’re probably making it worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is story that does involve rape, though it will not be graphically described because I don't feel it is right to publish it when so many people try to avoid it, regardless of whether it has or has not happened to them or not. So anyway, read with caution and please do not hate me for this, because I feel it is an issue that needs to be addressed and not hidden from the world. 
> 
> Also I will warn you now if you start reading this story you're in for a long haul and continuous frustration. That is all the warning I will give!
> 
> Anyway, any and all mistakes are of course my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, I'd love to hear from you:)

Niall tumbles out of the bar through the back entrance, stumbling through a fog of cigarette smoke and people into the dark-lit streets of London, eyelids heavy and feet dragging along the cobbled streets as he heads home having said goodbye to his friends inside the bar, still drinking the night away. 

He trudges through the streets, leaving the blaring thump of the music and shrill laughter of the clubbers behind as he sets off in sight for his bed and a bottle of Paracetamol to cure his throbbing headache. 

Niall crumples in on himself as he continues to pass by clubs with music blasting from speakers and out into the dark night, making his head pound harder and his dire need to get home stronger as he cuts through the winding streets down a dimly lit alley in desperate need to get to his bed and sleep for the rest of his life. 

“You know you want it.” A voice slurs from the end of the alleyway, making Niall jump – he hadn’t been here when Niall turned down here – as he eyes the tall person leant over another smaller one, both male Niall thinks, but hey, he could be looking at a pair of aliens and he’d currently be none the wiser.

“Don’t fight it, darling.” He larger man cackles then, voice shrill in the darkness as Niall takes timid steps towards him, the violent need to pass out on his bed urging him on. “I know what you want, darling and I’ve got it here.” He points to his crotch as the man against the wall squirms around underneath him.

“I-I don-“ The man shivers against his place on the wall, knees shaking underneath him, threatening to drop him to the floor as he spots Niall, eyes wide as Niall looks right back at him, or well his shadowed self anyway as the other man is on his neck, forcing noises from his throat.

"You do, baby, you do.” The man whisper-shouts against the tan column of his neck, leaving wet marks up the length of it. “You want it so bad, baby, so bad, I can feel it.” 

The smaller man crumples in on himself, pushing the larger man away from him quickly before he’s back on him, large hands wrapped around the thin expanses of his arms, holding him back painfully against the wall. “Oh, you want it."

“Are you okay?” 

Niall doesn't realise that he’s spoken until he has two sets of eyes on him; one furious and the other wide and nervous. He flickers his eyes between the pair, watching, waiting for a fight as they look upon him in his drunken and headache ridden state until the larger man smiles at him. 

“Oh, he’s okay, he’s just waiting for what he wants are you, darling?” The man’s words are slurred as he keeps his hands tight around the other’s biceps, holding him in place as he presses his knee to his crotch, making Niall blush – he shouldn’t be here to see this. 

His eyes flick to the smaller man who looks between him and the man holding him to the wall, his eyes desperate and that makes Niall flush harder – he really shouldn’t see this.

The smaller man continues to look at him, mouth frozen open as he keeps eye contact before breaking it off when the other more burly man presses harder into his crotch, making him keen. 

“You’re okay aren’t you, baby?” The other boy nods slowly and unsure but looks back at Niall, eyes wide and a little wet as Niall rubs his hand over his head, groaning as his head throbs. 

“Headache?” Niall nods at the larger man, hand still pressed to his head, “Get home and sleep it off, mate.”

“On my way.” Niall mumbles as he walks past the pair, wishing he lived closer to where he decided to drink tonight as the wind whips at his skin as he exits the alleyway, not looking back as he hears desperate pants behind him – he most definitely does not need to see that.

Niall slips into bed the moment he gets home, sticking his hand in the bedside drawers by his bed, hunting down the Paracetamol pack he keeps in there and popping two quickly, willing his headache away as he buries his head in his pillow and waits for tomorrow to come around.


	2. Chapter 2

Niall wakes up to the sound of someone scuttering around his flat, he worries until he hears the tell-tale sounds of Zayn cursing as something clatters to the floor, making him smile until he realises just how much smiling hurts when he has a hangover. Well actually, how everything hurts when he has a hangover.

He slowly pulls himself from his bed, ridding himself of the duvet as he shuffles through the flat, footsteps light to avoid any unnecessary noise that may further worsen his hangover. As he stands in the doorway to his little kitchen, he sees Zayn stood over the stove, watching the kettle across the other side of the room as he waits for it to boil. 

“Hey Zee.” Niall mumbles, rubbing at his sleepy eyes and carding his hand through his sleep matted hair. Zayn physically jumps as he hears Niall, turning around quickly to see a worse for wear Niall stood in just boxers in the door frame.

“What happened to you?” Zayn asks, moving across the kitchen to pour hot water into the mugs on the worktop, passing one to Niall once he’s finished stirring the coffee granules into it. 

Niall quirks an eyebrow at his friend, all perfect hair, flawless skin and mysterious smile as he sips from his mug, letting the scalding water flow down his throat, a burn so much different to the alcohol he chugged back just hours before. 

“You look like shit, mate.” Niall glares at Zayn – not everyone can go out and get totally smashed and look like they just stepped out of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalogue like Zayn can.

“Thanks.” Niall mutters, pulling the mug from his lips, watching Zayn flit around the kitchen, cooking eggs and bacon in frying pans, putting baked beans into a pan and stuffing slices of bread in the toaster. “Where’s lover boy?” Niall wonders as he sits down at the table where Zayn has set two plates, the necessary cutlery and condiments. 

He lifts his head to see Zayn grinning from ear to ear happily as he just thinks about him and that makes Niall splutter around his mug because just months ago Zayn vowed that he would never be able to fall in love, yet just days after he vowed that, Harry walked into his life; all curly hair, deep dimples, wide smile and hipster clothes and stole Zayn’s heart.

"At home.” Zayn smiles glumly as he moves the eggs around the frying pan, “He over did it last night.” Niall smiles as he finds out he’s not the only one who feels like death.

“I could never have guessed when he decided to give you a lap dance on a bar stool.” Niall chuckles as Zayn smirks from where he’s stirring the beans and simultaneously chugging back his coffee.

“Well who was I to stop him when he was having fun?” Zayn grins as he snatches up a plate from the table, shovelling food onto it and dropping it in front of a sneering Niall.

“You mean ‘who was I to stop it when I liked it?’” Zayn shrugs with a smirk as he sets his own food down on the table, digging in along with Niall and eating in silence until their plates are empty.

“That was really good, mate I have to admit, wasn’t expecting it to be, but it was.” Zayn glares at Niall and claps his hands loudly in retaliation, making Niall curl into himself whining as Zayn smirks down at him.

“Serves you right,” Zayn leans back in his chair, arms crossed across his chest. “I come over here to make sure you’re not dead in a puddle of your own vomit and that’s how you thank me.”

“You only came over because Harry was too out of it to give you any this morning.” Niall snides.

“Oh, Nialler,” Zayn leans over the table to whisper into Niall’s ear, voice raspy as he says, “I don’t think either of us had anything left for another round this morning, not after last night’s six rounds anyway.” Niall pulls away repulsed as he looks into Zayn’s eyes for any signs he’s lying.

“You did not.”

“Just because you can’t get any doesn’t mean that I can’t get enough for the both of us and Liam now, does it?” Zayn smirks all slowly as he stands up from his seat, taking the plates from the table and dropping them in the sink.

“You are disgusting, Zayn.” Niall mutters, finishing the drabs of his coffee off. “I hope you showered or something.” 

Zayn laughs loudly, head thrown back and there they are, three deep purple love bites dusted down the column of his throat. “Oh don’t worry, we did.” 

Niall’s eyes go wide as he looks down at the mug in front of him and its empty contents, in repulsion. “Round four, I’ll have you know, was very good, he did this thing-"

“I DON’T WANT TO KNOW!” Niall cries, cursing himself as his head pounds from his own voice, running down the hall to his room, leaving behind a smirking sex-lathered Zayn who cooked him breakfast and made him coffee. 

“I hate you Zayn.” He mutters as he takes a detour and enters the bathroom, scrubbing his teeth with his toothbrush and washing his hands overly thoroughly - just to be sure.


	3. Chapter 3

As Niall steps out of his bedroom once he’s dressed and ready for the day he hears the TV on and follows the theme tune to the news into the living room to see Zayn smiling down at his phone, TV forgotten. 

“Lover boy?”  Niall asks, plopping himself down on the sofa and propping his feet on Zayn’s legs as he leans back, stretching into the sofa cushions.

“Yeah.”  Zayn smiles around his words as his phone vibrates in his hand again.

“What’s he want?”  Niall steals the remote from Zayn’s sofa arm, flicking through the various delights that come from watching TV, late on a Sunday morning before frowning and flipping on the music channel.

“Just asking if your okay, I told him you’re probably feeling as good as he is, and he says he feels sorry for you if you do.” 

Niall smiles as Zayn’s eyes shimmer in the dull light blasting off the screen of his phone, crinkled around the sides as he smiles down at the pixelated words on his phone screen.  He likes to see Zayn like this, so full up with love that he can’t not smile because that’s what Harry does to his friend; he makes him unable to stop grinning.

“I knew I’d like him.”  Zayn rolls his eyes at Niall as he bobs along with the latest Justin Bieber song being emitted from the television.  “Tell him he’s the lucky one, because he doesn’t have you there to bother him with cum-coated breakfast.” 

Zayn chuckles at Niall’s disgusted face.  “Who says he did have any?”

“ZAYN!”  Niall cries, throwing a cushion at his friend before jumping up off the sofa and pointing towards the front door.  “Out!” 

Zayn laughs loud and happily at Niall, his tongue pressed to his teeth as his eyes crinkle in delight, throwing his head back onto the sofa as his body rumbles with his laughter. 

Niall frowns down at his friend before stealing his phone with a smirk as Zayn’s laughter immediately halts.  “Give it back Ni!”  Zayn whines, eyes pleading until Niall’s fingers flash across the screen, unlocking it quickly and pressing the call button. 

“Niall!”  Zayn shrieks as he races after a laughing Niall down the hallway, hands making grabbing motions as he tries to grasp his friend and retrieve his phone.

“Yeah, is this Harry?” Niall internally praises himself for his brilliant Scottish accent as he hears Harry rumble down the phone in confirmation. “Yes, well I am just calling to tell you of the sketchbook that Zayn keeps of you in the second drawer of his bedside cabinet.” 

Zayn squawks, cheeks flaming as he dives onto Niall, pulling them both down onto Niall’s bed, ripping the phone from his grasp and speaking quickly down the phone to Harry whilst Niall laughs loud, almost deafening himself as his cheeks redden in joy and praise at himself. 

Zayn slowly turns to face him, his lips upturned into a smile as he continues to talk to Harry, his voice all soft and happy in a way that only Harry can make it.

“You’re a poo.” He coos affectionately down the line, his eyes bright as he tugs at the hem of his shirt, playing with the stitching absentmindedly as he speaks to Harry. 

“Maybe, who knows?”  He grins cheekily, his teeth protruding into his smile, “It’s not my fault is it now, I mean if you weren’t so nice to draw.” 

Niall rolls over onto his belly underneath Zayn, staring up at the creases around Zayn’s eyes happily, his blue eyes happy as he watches Zayn’s caramel one glisten.  “Yeah, I love you too; now sleep it off, yeah?  You don’t sound too good still.” 

Zayn slowly lifts himself up from off of Niall, poking him harshly in retaliation as he does so.  “Well, if you don’t put yourself to bed yourself then I will call your actual mother."

Zayn laughs at the words Harry's no doubt rumbling down the line.  "Yeah, well, sometimes we all have to play bad cop.” 

Zayn bites at his bottom lip, slowly dragging his teeth over it as he listens intently to Harry’s raspy rumble.  “Love you too.  Now sleep yeah?  I’ll see you in a bit, love you Hazza.”

Zayn smiles as he presses the end call button before flicking his attention back over to Niall who is laid out on his stomach, his face perched in his hands. “You poo.”  Niall’s laughter is instantaneous.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when or if I will have time or get the chance to continue this story, but I wanted to upload all that I have so far, so please be (very!) patient with me! I'd love to hear any and all comments, plus take a look at my other stories:)

Zayn leaves not much later, a smile on his face as he pulls his coat tight around himself and heads off home to see Harry and Niall busies himself with making his bed and throwing his dirty clothes into his arms and trudging into the kitchen to put them into the washing machine.  
His eyes roam across the room as he sees that Zayn washed up the dishes that were in the sink and quickly pulls his phone from his pocket, shooting off a quick thank you text to his best friend before glugging down a glass of water and pulling the hoodie off the back of his kitchen chair and tugging it up his arms before exiting out of his front door.  
He pulls his front door shut softly, careful not to make too much noise for he knows his neighbour in the block of flats has a young child that she may be trying to settle for a nap and sets off down the creaky steps of his building and out the door into the busy streets, breathing in the crisp autumn air breezing around him.  
The sweet smell of freshly made coffee and baked delights are quick to fill Niall’s nose as he pushes open the door to the small coffee shop, the bell above the door addressing his entrance, making Liam glance up at him with a dazzling smile and beckoning him over. 

Niall grins back at his friend as he hoists himself up and over the counter, “Hey Li.” Liam smiles as he prepares the coffee for the customer he is serving, sending them off with a joyous ‘have a nice day’ and a face-splitting smile.

“Hey Ni,” Liam turns his attention to Niall instantly as he wipes down the work surface once he’s surveyed the area, checking for customers. “I’m surprised you’re alive.” Niall frowns at Liam’s honest expression, “You know, Ni, whenever you drink you get mega smashed and live like a social recluse.”  
“That was one time!” Niall argues, sitting on the counter and crossing his arms across his chest in protest.  
“Maybe so,” Liam agrees, “But it seemed like years. Normally you can handle your drink, but that night, wow, you were worse than me.” And yeah, not even Niall can dispute that fact, that night was bad, really bad. The same as the next morning and the two that followed that, whereby he only left his apartment when Liam and Zayn hoisted him in their arms and dragged him out into the fresh air, in his pyjamas, need he add.

“Yeah, I guess. No last night wasn’t too bad; I’m surprised you’re at work though after that, Li.” Liam shrugs at him, “I didn’t drink that much, Harry drank a lot, I remember that.” He laughs a light blush highlighting his face, “I mean he gave Zayn a lap dance in the middle of the club!” 

Niall laughs along with him at their friend’s antics and that’s how they stay until the bell above the door rings and Liam goes into professional mode, pushing Niall off of the counter and serving the middle aged man before him happily, creating his order in seconds with a smile that would be too bright for a Sunday morning if it was Niall who had to put it on his face for a person he will probably never see again.

As soon as the man leaves another customer clambers through the door and slowly but surely a steady stream of customers come and go, making Liam smile each and every time as he serves them, whilst Niall watches on from his new position of the table closest to the front countertop so that he can talk to Liam whenever the customer numbers decrease and then Alex is walking though the door, a sleepy smile on his lips as he slips under the counter and steals Liam’s apron from around his waist, making Liam blush under his fingertips. 

“You ready, Liam?” Niall asks, a knowing smile on his lips as he watches the blush dance high in Liam’s cheeks as he nods slowly, unravelling himself from Alex’s arms and over to Niall, smiling shyly in goodbye at Alex before he and Niall leave through the large front doors of the coffee shop.

“When are you going to just tell him, Liam?” Niall sighs as he watches Liam’s eyes flicker back as they walk past the shop front, looking back at Alex who’s preparing a drink for the customer in front of him with a wide, toothy smile. Liam startles, eyes wide as he looks to Niall in shock, his cheeks flaming at being caught.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Liam mumbles, setting his eyes straight ahead, avoiding Niall’s knowing eyes as they walk side by side down the pavement. “Anyway, what have you got planned for us today?” 

Niall smirks as Liam tries to deflect the attention from himself but keeps his eyes off of his blushing friend and just concentrates on not walking into anyone. “Well, I thought we could maybe go make Harry feel like death, for making us go out drinking and see him give Zayn a lap dance; his punishment if you like.” 

Liam nods quickly in agreement, leading the way down the pavement towards Harry’s flat, a wide grin on his lips yet a pink tinge still evident in his cheeks as they walk in set, side by side, devilish smirks on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when or if I will have time or get the chance to continue this story, but I wanted to upload all that I have so far, so please be (very!) patient with me! I'd love to hear any and all comments, plus take a look at my other stories:)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more a filler because I had the time to do it and I don't want to just leave or forget about this story.
> 
> Anyway, any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, I'd love to hear from you!<3

“HARRY! HARRY! HARRY!” Niall shouts, jumping through the door and flopping onto Harry’s bed, squashing said boy in the process and muffling the whines coming from between his lips.  
“Get off me.” Harry whines half-heartedly, tugging on the duvet cover and pulling it higher up his body, covering his face as he kicks at Niall from underneath the material. “Go away, Niall.” 

Niall laughs loud, body shaking onto of Harry’s, making him sigh in protest and try to roll out from underneath his weight. “Liam, you poo.” Harry grimaces as the light glaring in through the blinds hits his eyes as he peeks out from under the duvet cover, spotting a smirking Liam in the doorway.  
“Hey, don’t blame me.” Liam chuckles as he watches Niall roll over, consequently covering Harry once again.

“Liam!” Niall whines, looking scandalized up at Liam as he rolls to sprawl across the curly haired boy’s lap, “You wanted to come and wake Harry up too!” Harry scowls as he watches Liam’s smirk flop from his lips.  
“No, I didn’t.”  
“Yes, you did. You said it would be payback for watching him give Zayn a lap dance.” 

Harry eyes Niall carefully, willing him to continue as a gentle blush formulates on Liam’s cheeks. “When you gave Zayn a lap dance right in the middle of the club, as in, like a public lap dance.” Harry smirks as he listens to each word, gaining knowledge of the night before.

“You might not want to lay there.” Harry chuckles, shifting his feet and stretching out against the soft cushions behind his head, smiling up at the ceiling as he feels Niall shift above him.

“Why not, Styles?” Niall eyes Harry’s lazy smile carefully as he props himself up to lay across his duvet-clad legs.  
“I believe Zayn informed you of the rounds?”  
“Rounds?” Niall mumbles, face crumpled before it straightens in realization before twisting into one of disgust and throwing himself off of the bed, running over and grabbing hold of Liam’s wrist, tugging him into the hallway, leaving behind a smirking Harry. 

“Rounds! Liam, we’re leaving!”  
“What? Why?” Liam questions, eye brows knitted together as he tries to slow down Niall’s departure.

“He just allowed me to lay in his cum-coated sheets, much like Zayn allowed me to eat cum-coated breakfast, Liam! That is why we are leaving. Because I need to go and disinfect, not just my tongue but my clothes, because of the dirty creatures that live here.”

The front door quickly shuts, ridding the apartment of Liam’s nervous laughter and Niall’s groans of disgust and leaving Harry to bask in the warm of his duvet. To let his lips contort into a gentle smile as his brain flicks through all the images of Zayn stored there; the soft morning smile that peaks onto his face as the sun splinters through the blinds in the morning, highlighting his toned muscles as he fidgets in his sleep, clinging to the last few moments of sleep, the far off glaze that settles in his mind as he draws and the childish twinge to his laugh as he crinkles his eyes in pure undoubted joy. 

Seeing the images of the man who made him trust more than just the love of his childhood friends and his family, made him believe in the idea that love means more than being nice and caring, that it can mean needing someone on such a level that it makes your mind whirl and your heart thrum in the most glorious of ways. 

The way only possible when you meet your first love, and who’s to say whether or not Harry went back to sleep with a jaw-splitting grin on his pink lips, that tasted like his first love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, I'd love to hear from you!<3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while, everything has been a right pain at the minute and I have 16 exams next week so I doubt that I will have any time to do anything next week, so I hope that this makes up for it.
> 
> If you hadn't already noticed, this story is a bit of a slow-burner, but anyway, I hope that's okay, I didn't want to rush this as I really like the idea that I have for it in my head and I don't want to wreck it!
> 
> Anyway, any and all mistakes are my own, and if you have any comments, positive or negative, I'd love to hear from you!<3
> 
> Also, if you want to, I'd love for you to check out my other writings, there's lots to choose from!:)

The walk back to Niall’s apartment is short as the light winds flicker past them, slowly cooling their souls as they tread on the subtle cracks in the pavement. 

“What time did you get in this morning anyway?” Niall asks as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his hoodie, shielding them from the chill in the air.

“Around 1ish, probably,” Liam cocks his head to the side in contemplation, “Yeah, probably between 1 and 2 this morning. And what happened to you, Nialler?” Liam’s face is honest and open as he looks towards Niall, their shoes dancing over the pavement, their steps bringing them closer and closer to Niall’s apartment.

“I had a splitting headache.” Liam sighs in sympathy as Niall pulls open the door to his building, ushering Liam inside and blocking the cold air from biting at their skin. “So I went home and I literally slept until Zayn came round this morning.” 

Niall takes the stairs two at a time as he climbs the building up to his floor with Liam on his heels before they slow as they reach Niall’s door, the wood dark against the not-quite white walls surrounding it.

Niall fumbles with his keys, his hands still slow from being bitten by the chill air, before he quickly slots the key in the hole and pushes the door open, smiling as he watches Liam instantly flop onto the sofa in the lounge area, slinging his arm over his eyes quickly when the sun dares to shine into his eyes due to his position. “Sucks to be you, Ni.” 

Niall snorts in agreement as he slips into the kitchen, pulling two mugs from the cupboards and setting them on the worktop and switching on the kettle, before peeking his head out of the door to catch Liam flicking through the channels on the TV before settling on the news with a frown.  
“You want tea, Li?” 

“Yes please,” Liam smiles, turning the volume down on the television, seeming to just like the idea of the background noise filtering into his ears instead of acknowledging the words that are being spoken to inform. “I swear I work in a coffee house, but I never get a chance to drink anything other than water.” 

Liam frowns to himself, pulling his shoes off and lining them up against the base of the sofa carefully and tucking his sock clad feet up onto the sofa, under one of Niall’s pillows and sinking deeper into the fabric of the furniture. “It’s quite sad really.” 

The clicking of the kettle as it boils alerts Niall to wander back into the kitchen, fixing their drinks and grabbing the half eaten packet of biscuits from the biscuit tin as he does so, filling his hands with hot beverages and biscuit delights. 

“Here you go, Li.” Liam looks up at Niall as he sets the mug of hot tea down on the small coffee table in front of sofa carefully, not caring to place it on one of the coaster as he does so. Liam frowns and tuts affectionately at Niall before reaching out to grab one to settle under each of their drinks. 

“Thanks, Ni.” Niall quickly waves him off, blowing at his tea quickly, willing it to cool as soon as possible as he picks two biscuits from the packet, handing one to Liam.  
“Anytime,”

Niall kicks his shoes off of his feet, watching as they settle haphazardly underneath the coffee table and nibbling at his biscuit as he waits for his drink to somewhat cool. “Anyway, about Alex.” 

Liam groans into his mug, making Niall laugh loud, his eyes crinkling in enjoyment as Liam sinks deeper into the sofa, effectively shielding himself from view as he hoists his knees to his chest, ducking behind them also. 

“Liam.” Niall warns, a grin on his lips as Liam peeks over his knees childishly, “Do not make me tickle it out of you,” Liam visible freezes, his eyes wide as he takes in Niall’s words, “Or worse, go and talk to Alex.” 

Liam chokes on his tea, the liquid dribbling down his chin as his eyes bulge out of his head.  
“You wouldn’t.” Liam’s voice is unsure, quaking as he looks at Niall, his eyes wide in fear as he watches as Niall sits up in his seat, slinging his legs over the side of the sofa, as if he’s going to stand up. 

“Please don’t.” Liam whimpers and Niall’s enjoyment is instantly lost, the thoughts previously in his mind that told him this was a good idea long gone.

“You know I wouldn’t do that to you, Li.” His voice is soft, as if he’s talking to a scare child, and really, he kind of is, with the way Liam’s looking at him, with his eyes so wide and unsure. Liam just nods in response, pulling his lips into a tight, almost invisible smile as he tips his mug against his lips, letting the hot liquid drizzle over his lips.

“I don’t want him to know,” Liam mumbles around the porcelain of the mug, his teeth clanking with it occasionally as he tries to form words, “I don’t think he’s, you know, gay.” Niall frowns as he sees Liam’s eyebrows knit together in frustration, “It would just make it awkward if he knew anything anyway, we’re work mates, nothing more.” 

Niall continues to frown as he brings his own mug to his mouth, lapping at the liquid and savouring how it flows down his throat.“Why can’t you be anything more? It’s not against the rules, Li.”  
“I know, I just don’t want to mess it up.”  
“Mess what up?”  
“What we have,” Liam grins giddily, quickly hiding the stretch of his lips behind his mug, “We’re just good, you know? We get along well, and I don’t want to mess that up.” Niall nods slowly, understanding what Liam means, but still being slightly annoyed by his friend’s beliefs. 

“But, y’know, he might be gay,” Liam looks up at Niall so hopefully, that Niall’s heart breaks right there in his chest, “And anyway, even if he’s not, you can say that you tried, can’t you, Li?” A nod comes his way, regardless of how small and timid it is, Niall takes it as some form of win. “Plus, if you don’t try, then you’ll never know.” Niall grins, pulling his mug to his mouth again and downing a mouthful, sighing in content before speaking again. “And if you don’t try, I might as well.” 

Liam squawks as he looks at Niall, his eyes wide and horrified, a hint of jealousy clouding his irises as he glares at Niall, his jaw clenched, just like his hands, which are twisted into fists, the skin whitening as he pulls his hands taut, the skin stretching over his knuckles.  
“You wouldn’t.”  
“Oh, yeah?” Niall smirks devilishly, loving how Liam’s jaw works under his skin, just at his half-hearted words.  
“Yeah.”  
“And why not?”  
“Because you wouldn’t do that to me.” 

Niall’s smile reaches his eyes as he watches a hopeful look dance in Liam’s eyes, his hands pulling at the hem of his shirt. “Never.” Niall agrees, sinking into the sofa, squeezing Liam’s knee before turning his eyes back to the television, watching as the news presenter moves from her previous story to her current one, just the word ‘rape’ catching Niall’s eye as her previously scrolling titles run from the screen. 

“How could someone do that?” Niall asks, eyes watching the screen, waiting for the story to come back onto the pixels, to allow him to read what it had to say.  
“What, rape someone?” Niall nods, turning to look at Liam briefly before flickering his blue eyes to scan the screen for the story on the rolling titles. “I don’t know, mate, I really don’t know.” Liam frowns, his lips pulling down with the weight of his emotions. “Worst bit is, they’re hardly ever caught either. It’s like murder, but they’re never really brought to justice.” 

Niall turns in his seat to watch Liam, watch the passion behind his words. “I mean, they kill someone’s soul through their actions, but they get away with it just so easily. And even if they don’t and they are caught, there isn’t really any justice. They get like a year and that’s it, regardless of the fact that they’ve ruined someone’s life. It’s sick and unfair.” 

“I know.” Niall sighs, his eyes focusing back on the screen in front of him, to see the presenter wrapping up her programme and saying goodbye to her audience and then the credits are rolling and Liam’s reaching out towards the coffee table, dropping off his now empty mug as he picks up the remote, pressing random buttons until he finds something that catches his eye.

“Football?” Liam quirks his eye towards the screen as he directs his question to Niall, who nods in response, sucking the dregs of his drink from his mug before also popping it onto the coffee table, watching as the player running across the screen loses the ball, creating an eruption of boos and cheers from the opposing sides of the crowd, before tucking his feet under himself and leaning into the cushions scattered over the sofa, attention stuck to the screen, not the fact that a person life was ruined for no good reason, due to someone’s sick view of what ‘no’ meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was okay? 
> 
> Anyway, any and all mistakes are my own, and if you have any comments, positive or negative, I'd love to hear from you!<3
> 
> If you want to, I'd love for you to check out my other writings, there's lots to choose from!:)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this week I have so far had a total of 12 hours of exams in just three days, so just 6 more hours to go and I shall be free, therefore, I view updating this story as a break from my revision, I think you all probably agree! 
> 
> Anyway, any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, I'd love to hear from you!<3
> 
> Don't be silent readers, tell me your thoughts please, they encourage me to try to make this story as good as possible for you guys! 
> 
> Anyway, check out my other stuff, if you want:)
> 
> *I quite like the word anyway, you might have noticed;)

“How could they have lost that game?”  Liam sighs as he flips channels on the TV, leaving behind the dismal score splattered across the expanse of the screen.  Niall shakes his head quickly in dejection at the plays made by the team, a sigh rolling past his lips also, before reaching down and grabbing a biscuit from the packet and munching on it greedily as he tries to forget the score.  
“No idea, mate, absolutely no idea.”

They quickly fall into a comfortable silence with one another, as picture after picture dances across the screen, but none taking Liam’s fancy as he continues to button press, before flinging himself backwards into the material of the sofa and chucking the remote in Niall’s general direction.  “I give up, you find something.”

Niall frowns down at Liam and turns the TV off quickly, leaving the room quiet yet comfortable as he hops off of the sofa, sneakily pinching another biscuit before grabbing his and Liam’s mugs, as he departs to the kitchen.

As Niall’s fingers run over the switch of the kettle, he looks out of the smeary window of the kitchen, looking out onto the barely-there grass of his apartment buildings’ garden area, the sky a wishy-washy blue stretched along the horizon.  “I’m surprised we didn’t freeze to death out there last night, mate.”  The sound of Liam’s voice makes Niall jump, his head rocketing round to look at said friend, before nodding and smiling in agreement, quickly drawing his attention back to the boiled kettle.

“Harry says he misses you,” Liam chuckles, as he peels his phone from inside his jean pocket, “Got a text from him saying that he misses you loads and wants to, and I quote, mess up more than just your clothes.”  Liam’s face reddens as he reads the words to Niall, who just snorts in response.  
“Poor boy, will never understand that he’s just not my type,” Niall chuckles, pouring the hot water into their freshly made drinks and starts stirring attentively.  “Tell him he doesn’t need me, he had more than enough fun with Zayn last night, or so I heard anyway.” 

Niall hands the mug of steaming liquid over to Liam who smiles in thanks, leaning back against the cold worktop behind himself.  “Did you mean what you said?”  Liam’s voice is timid as he speaks into the mug shrouding his lips, wringing his hands nervously as he stares over at a confused Niall.  
“Did I mean what?”  
“That you’d go after Alex.  Because of you want to, who am I to stop you?  I was just wondering, is all, if you know what I mean.”  Niall smiles small as a light blush creeps over Liam’s cheeks, flushing his flesh like the cold weather was once again nipping at his skin.  Niall reaches over, his fingers dancing playfully over Liam’s forearm as he speaks,  
“Course I was joking, Li,” Liam physically relaxes, his shoulders loosening once again.  “Anyway, how could I be best man, if I was the groom?”

Hot tea cascades from Liam’s mouth, splashing on the floor as it goes plummeting downwards, Liam’s eyes blown wide as he just stares at Niall, tea dripping down his jaw, mouth open wide.  “W-what?”  Liam stammers and Niall’s cheeks hurt as he tries to hold back his laughter and face-splitting smile at his friend’s reaction, but he can’t hold it long, as the laughter comes barrelling from his lips, loud and happy in the small kitchen of his apartment, his head thrown back in joy and content as Liam just scowls in his direction, muttering under his breath.

Niall grins, “Love you, Li,” as he watches Liam through squinted eyes as he wills his giggles to die down as his brown eyed friend mops at the tea coated floor with a cloth, his other hand simultaneously wiping down his face also, ridding it of the warm beverage.

“I’m glad.”  Liam says tight-lipped, a smile hidden in his big brown eyes, and really, who could manage to say no to those?  Alex must have a heart of bloody _steel_ if he’s able to reject those doe eyes.  Not that Liam has even asked yet, anyway.  
“When are you gonna ask out Alex, then Li?”  
“I don’t know.”  He mumbles, but Niall can read into those eyes, they hold the look that says, ‘it’s not worth it and I don’t want to mess up trying’.  Niall frowns at his friend,  
“Why not?”  Niall cocks his head to the side as he watches his friend intently.  
“Because.”  
“Because?”  
“Yeah, because.”  
“So, are you going to tell me your definition of ‘because’ or are you going to continue your sentence?”

Liam bites at his lower lip, his teeth protruding into the tender flesh as he averts his eyes from own piercing blue ones.  Liam shrugs, his eyes wide in nervousness, so Niall drags his knuckles back up Liam’s forearm, a silent, ‘I’m here regardless’, on Niall’s part.  “I’m pretty certain he’s not gay.” Liam spits out, the words acting like poison on his tongue.

Niall snorts, “Yeah, well, Tom Daley _‘wasn’t’_ gay, but look at him now, look what the male population had been unknowingly missing out on!”  Liam chuckles, his eyes clearing momentarily of their sad, faraway look.  “Anyway, what I’m saying is, you don’t know for sure, yeah?”  Liam nods. “So, why not try?”

 Liam smiles tight-lipped at Niall before slowly turning and walking back into the living room, his half full mug abandoned on the countertop, his footsteps quietening as they leave the tiled floor of the kitchen, his movements muffled by the carpet of the living room under foot.

Niall watches from the doorway as Liam just sets himself carefully into his previous seat on the sofa, pulling his knees to his chest and staring longingly towards the blank screen of the TV.  “Because I don’t think I could handle the rejection.”  Liam mumbles, sensing Niall’s presence as he sets Liam’s tea down on the coffee table and cuddling up to Liam on the sofa, running his hands over Liam’s back to calm him.

“You won’t get rejected, Li.” Niall coos, his hands working their way down Liam’s arms, over his biceps.  “I mean, who wouldn’t want these?”  Niall squeezes playfully at the muscle lining Liam’s arms.  “Now, if I had anything other than bro-love for you, I tell you now, I would _totally_ go there.”  Liam chuckles under his breath, watching Niall shyly from under his eyelashes.  
“You would?”  Niall blushes a bit but is quick to chuckle out a ‘yeah, mate, course’ which makes Liam smile wide, yet still with an edge of caution. 

“I love you, Nialler.”  He grins, tugging Niall deeper into his side and wrapping his arms around his shoulders as he leans down to grab a biscuit from the packet, tucking it into Niall’s hand before retrieving one of his own and flicking the TV back on, settling into the sofa with a soft smile on his face as his eyes flicker over the TV.

Niall smiles with both his mouth and his eyes as  he watches the way Liam carelessly chuckles along with the characters portrayed on screen, pouts at their sadness and smiles as they go about their pre-scripted lives, and yeah, Niall can’t imagine how anyone would be able to reject Liam, not even straight guy – he hopes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was okay?
> 
> Anyway, who doesn't like a bit of NIam fluff? Yeah, that's right, no one, because Niam is just so cute!
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, I'd love to hear from you!<3 
> 
> Don't be silent readers, let me know your thoughts and feelings please:)
> 
> Check out my other work, if you like, there's lots of pairings to choose from:)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my exams are over, finally! That has to have been the longest week of my life - over 18 hours of exams in the space of 5 days! 
> 
> Anyway, any and all mistakes are of course my own and if you have any comments, good or bad, I'd love to hear from you!<3  
> -Don't be silent readers, tell me what you like and what you don't, so I can try to improve this story for you guys!

“Hazza, you awake?”  Zayn calls from down the hall, his keys rattling against the sideboard near the front door as he abandons them there, before kicking off his shoes and trudging down the hallway, his fingers ghosting over the flaking wallpaper lining the walls. 

He continues to wander, his footfalls light on the wooden floor as he goes, his breath light as it flutters from his lips out into the warm air, scented by Harry’s candles, basking the apartment in a deliciously homely scent.  “Haz?”

Harry smiles as he both visualises Zayn’s entrance into his apartment and hears the confusion in Zayn’s voice as his head pops around the corner into the small kitchen area, his nose a light pink from the cold wind whipping around outside, beyond the walls and windows of the apartment. 

“Hey,”  Harry smiles lazily, his fingers twiddling with his fork as he watches Zayn take in the breakfast lining the table, “Morning, Zee, come get some food.”  Zayn’s eyes quickly scan the table, eyes landing on the placing prepared for him opposite Harry.

“Hey, Hazza,”  Zayn grins slowly, lowering himself into his seat as Harry pushes a plate of steaming food in front of him, his hand brushing deliberately against Zayn’s own, just to feel the shock bolt through his skin from the contact.  “You been up long?  You were asleep when I popped back a few hours ago, so I went straight off to work.” 

Harry raises his fork to his mouth, slipping a mouthful of fried egg and bacon between his lips, his movement still slow with the remnants of sleep tugging at his muscles.  “Not long, Niall and Liam came round and woke me up.”  Harry reaches his hand back out, entwining his fingers with Zayn’s, watching the dopey smile dance along his lips. “How was work?” 

Zayn sighs, eyes swooping down to decide which part of his meal to eat first before he answers, “It was ok, I guess.”  He shrugs slowly, digging into his food and grinning at the delicious flavours and textures bathing his tongue. “Not a lot going on, so they sent me home early,” Zayn’s fingers drift carefully over Harry’s pale flesh, his fingers working delicate circles into his knuckles as they grin at each other from across the table.  “I hope Niall and Li didn’t wake you up too bad.”

Harry chuckles small, shaking his head as his eyes crinkle, downing a mouthful of juice and offering it towards Zayn with a small flick of his wrist.  Zayn smiles and meets Harry halfway as he passes it towards him and takes a small mouthful, the orange lining his lips before he licks it away. 

“Nah, Niall wanted to come and join me in bed, whilst Liam decided he wanted to watch the whole affair.”  Zayn rolls his eyes playfully, his hand subconsciously tightening slightly around Harry’s and Harry can sense the not-quite jealousy, but fear in Zayn’s fingers as they ghost over his skin.  “But Niall soon understood that it could never work between us, not once he found out what he was laying in.”

Zayn’s eyes go wide and then loud laughter tumbles from his lips, matching the sounds escaping from between Harry’s own stretched pink lips.  “He laid on the bed?”  Harry nods, biting his lip to hold in his excitable laughter. 

“Poor sod.” Zayn mutters, reaching to wipe at his eyes, his fingers traipsing up and down Harry’s long, nimble fingers before passing back Harry’s orange juice with a thankful smile.

“Nah, if his screaming was anything to go by, he enjoyed it.”  Harry smirks, shovelling more and more food into his mouth, Zayn doing the same from across the table as their feet wind together beneath the table’s wooden surface.

They sit together for a while, just watching each other and continuing to eat their breakfasts, sneaking not-so secret stares at each other, cheeks flushing and bashful smiles lining their lips as and when they’re caught in the act.  “How are you anyway, Hazza?”  Zayn grins, popping his final bit of his toast between his lips and chewing as he watches Harry push his hair off of his forehead unsuccessfully, it flopping back straight after.  
“Really good.”  Harry smiles, reaching out again to try to convince his hair to stay out of his eyes, threading his fingers in it carefully as he nibbles his lower lip in concentration.

“No hangover?”  Zayn’s voice is light in sympathy as he remembers how the last time Harry was hung over, his brain had throttled in his head, banging against his skull it had kept permanent tears transfixed in his eyes.  The way his eyes lost their intense emerald shine and transformed into pits of lifeless green, encircled by contours of greying skin, his heart beating sadly in his chest at just the memory of Harry hurting and there being no way to help him.

Harry chuckles lightly, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth as he continues to chew through his laughter.  “No, I’m not too bad.”  Zayn visibly glows as he hears the words fall from Harry’s lips.  “You worry too much,” Harry says, his eyes shining as Zayn leans over to kiss at his lips, just a gentle touch that leaves Harry breathless as they pull away slowly.  
“I worry because I care.”  Zayn smiles, licking at his lips with a sigh, “Second-round breakfast tastes so nice.”  He smirks, making Harry blush and push at his shoulders, his cheeks aflame whilst Zayn just chuckles at him, “Love you really, Hazza.”

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat, his eyes wide as he questions the words that just shimmied past Zayn’s lips and into his ears, the four letters that had previously been kept away from the air, just stored and repeated inside his head.  “You love me?”  Zayn realises his words as soon as Harry asks and his shoulders hunch up defensively, as if expecting Harry to reject him.

“Yeah, Hazza.”  Zayn’s voice is so quiet that had it not been for the almost deathly silence that fell over the kitchen after the slipping of _that_ word, then Harry probably wouldn’t have heard him.  Zayn squirms nervously in his seat as Harry’s eyes dance over his frame, over his face and basking himself in the boy that makes him believe in the word love.   
“I love you too, Zayn.”  Zayn glows as the words enter the air, setting the whole room on fire due to its presence and his shoulders drop from their previous hangout of under his ears.  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah.” 

Harry grins wide as Zayn ducks his head down, his lips stretching into a wide smile with his tongue pressed to the back of his teeth, making Harry’s heart just drum louder, as that’s one of the things that initially drew him to Zayn when they first met.

Zayn’s hand trails over the table top, hunting down Harry’s long fingers and twisting them around his own effortlessly as he leans across the table, rubbing his nose against Harry’s before swooping down to kiss passionately at his lips, smiles forming upon contact by both parties.  “Love you,” Zayn grins childishly, almost testing the way the words roll off of his tongue as his eyes shine joyfully.  
“Love you too, Zee.”  Harry chuckles, nosing against Zayn’s stubble happily, basking in the dull ache the scratching leaves on his skin.  “I love this too.” 

Zayn grins, kissing at Harry’s ear cheekily before rising from his chair, dropping a chaste kiss to Harry’s lips.  “What shall we do today?” Zayn asks, reaching across to get Harry’s plate and heading towards the sink, with a skip in his step, to clean them.

Harry smiles over his shoulder at Zayn’s domestic actions, “I don’t mind, what do you want to do?”  Harry follows after Zayn on tired legs, his movements creaky as he stretches his legs, his arms wrapping around Zayn’s waist, as said boy washes up, his hands soapy in the depth of the hot water.

“Don’t mind, as long as I’m with you.”  Zayn whispers, his eyes focusing down on the plate in his hand and the scrubbing motion of his hands as Harry’s heart just thrums in his chest, a warm, happy feeling coursing through his veins, igniting his soul.

Soft lips attach to Zayn’s cheek, a swift embrace that makes Zayn lean into the touch, cheeks flushing that little bit deeper and his heart swelling just that little bit bigger.  “I don’t mind as long as I’m with you either.”  Harry whispers, slowly peeling his lips from Zayn’s cheek, settling his head on said boy’s shoulder and smiling, satisfied at how his life turned out.

“What are you smiling at?”  Zayn’s voice pulls Harry’s attention away from the memories dancing in his mind’s eye and instead allows him to focus on the real image of Zayn, his eyes bright as they’re reflected in the window above the sink.  
“You.”  Zayn blushes, pushing at Harry playfully with his wet hands as he tries to hide the grin stretching his lips.

As the final dish is washed and Harry has dropped multiple delicate kisses all the way down Zayn’s neck, chuckling as Zayn shies away when he blows cool breaths teasingly onto his warm skin.  “What now?”  Harry whispers as Zayn turns to face him, his large hands coming to sit snugly around Harry’s waist, drawing patterns into the skin stretched over Harry’s hips as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Well, I should get dressed,”  Zayn frowns at Harry’s words, making him chuckle and poke at Zayn’s nose, loving how it crinkles up even before the contact is made.  “Then after that, I believe we should have a lazy day and do nothing, but be soppy.”  
“You want to watch a soppy movie, don’t you, Hazza?” 

Harry smiles small, looking at Zayn through his eyelashes, trying to gauge his reaction but just coming face to face with a face-splitting grin.  “C’mon then, Hazza Bear, romantic movie it is, under one condition.”  Zayn takes Harry’s hand in his, their fingers entwining seamlessly as Harry nods in response, his full attention set on Zayn’s bright irises.  “We watch Love Actually.” 

Harry frowns, his forehead wrinkling as he tries to decipher the hidden message that must be hiding in Zayn’s words.  
“But you don’t like that film.”  Harry pouts, his mind racing over different ideas for as to why Zayn would want to watch that particular film.  
“I do,” Zayn assures him, a soft smile lighting up his face.  “It makes you smile, which gives me something priceless to watch.”

And then Zayn’s hand is tugging Harry’s, willing him to follow as he drags them into the living area of Harry’s apartment, slipping Love Actually into the DVD player and pulling Harry into his side as the opening credits roll and both their hearts hammer rhythmically in their chests, communicating the emotion that they only just verbalised and let out into the open air: I love you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was okay, I really don't want to rush this story because I'm enjoying playing around with a long story as the only other one I did I finished in under two weeks and I just want to be able to experience writing something more freestyle.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and any and all mistakes are of course my own, and if you have any comments, positive or negative, I'd love to hear from you!<3
> 
> -Don't be silent readers, let me know what you guys do and don't like, as I want this to be as good a story for you guys to read as it is for me to write!:)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I just wanted to get something up because of you guys being so nice and leaving comments! (go *silent reader*, I just might love this girl;))
> 
> Anyway, I hope you're enjoying this story and I'd love to hear from you whether you are or you're not, as I'd love to take on board and learn from what you guys like and don't like, so I can make this as good as possible for you.
> 
> So, yeah, any and all mistakes are of course my own, and if you have any comments, positive or negative, then please let me know! Don't be silent readers, let me know any and all comments and thoughts you have on this story, yeah?<3
> 
> Also, check out my other work, if you want:)

When Liam leaves, Niall smiles as his figure descends the stairs of his building and watching from the window to see Liam cut across the grass outside the building, his hands in his pockets and breath beginning to ghost into the frigid air in front of himself as he wanders back to the coffee shop, whereby he will spend a total of three and a half hours with Alex. 

Niall grins knowingly to himself when he sees the little bounce in Liam’s step as he continues his trek towards the horizon, leaving Niall to his own devices.  He tuts to himself as he picks up his and Liam’s mugs from the coffee table in the living area, shuffling them into his sink and half-heartedly scrubbing at them to clean them before leaving them on the draining board to dry.

Niall potters around the apartment, finding little jobs to complete whilst intermittently watching as the sun begins to plummet in the sky, hiding itself behind the backdrop of the neon-lit city beyond his apartment. 

He sighs to himself as he watches the bright lights flicker on and off, to an unscripted rhythm, in the distance inside of their respective buildings; people running around aimlessly around the large concrete structures that loom above them, staring down in disgust as they scutter around the lengths of pavements and roads that zigzag through the city. 

Knowing that being just this far out of the city keeps him normal and happy, knowing that he can escape from the overwhelming hustle and all round bustle of nameless faces in the crowds whenever he needs to and enter into the masses when he feels like it; like the night before.

When a pint had just been hollering his name from the barrel it was stored in and the boys had been more than happy to help him fill that desire, with loud laughter and drunken humour as they stumbled into and out of dozens of pubs, passing nameless faces with their cheeks flushed with their intake of alcohol as the wind battered their skin.

Niall grins to himself just at the thought of feeling the suds of beer in his mouth, seeping between his teeth, soaking into his tongue as it went down his throat and enticed him into drinking more until his headache morphed into nothing more than a nagging pain that could be quenched by alcohol into a monster that raged inside of his skull, its incessant pounding inside his skull increasing with every intake of air he took, let alone any alcohol.

His spine quivers with the memory, pushing it to the back of his mind as he shuffles around the apartment, finding nothing to keep him entertained for more than a few moments, and really, is this what his life has come to?

Living in a one bed apartment with no one but himself, struggling to find enjoyment in anything that he used to love and treasure, and only seeming to find his attention settling when he does jobs or household chores?

A loud moan peels out from between Niall’s lips, his frustration seeping away in the form of angry whines and groans directed at himself.  “For God’s sake, Niall, you’re 20 years old!  What the hell are you doing with yourself?”  He shakes his head at himself, turning his attention to the small mirror balancing on a nail in the wall of the hallway by the door.

Studying himself he pulls frustrated at the lashes of brown coming through the vibrant blonde inked into his hair, mentally reminding himself to call Zayn to come and help him dye it again and to buy some dye for the whole operation.  His eyes continue to scrutinize himself, squinting at his reflection and only finding comfort in the fact his teeth are straighter, thanks to his orthodontist as a child.  Yeah, this is the blasphemy that my life has turned into, he thinks, fingering at the hem of his shirt angrily, his jagged nails catching on the thread coming loose in the stitching.

He quickly loses interest in himself though, turning away from the mirror, his eyes sad as he wanders out of his apartment, his keys a familiar weight in his pocket so that he can let himself back into his apartment later, as he sets off down the stairs of his building, out into the cold air that is creating havoc with the trees surrounding the concrete building.

As the harsh breeze lashes out at his skin, leaving behind an aching red in its wake, but Niall just grins at the feel of nature nipping at his skin, the cool of the wind cooling the red patches of hotness splattered up his bare flesh.

The grass under his feet is patchy yet complete under his feet as he stomps haphazardly over the blades, them falling like soldiers in battle as he wanders deeper into the centre of the grassy area, where the patches of mud and soil end and a purely grassed area sits prettily.

He drops to his knees, sliding them out from under himself as he goes, so that he’s sat on his bum, the blades of grass doing exactly as their name suggests as they slice harmlessly at his exposed skin.

Niall breathes in deeply, the air refreshing like never before as it travels through his airways, igniting his soul with its purity and allowing a subconscious smile to worm itself up and onto his lips, stretching them and making his jaw ache, in a way that only a smile can as he closes his eyes, allowing his senses to enhance themselves as he shuts the world from his sights and just listens, smells, tastes and feels what the world has to offer him.

He sits there in the grass, his feet sprawled out in front of himself as his hands travel over the grass around him, feeling the changes in their heights and their widths with his long fingers, smelling the crispness in the air, listening to the cars scooter down the nearby roads, their tyres imprinting on the hard tarmac and tasting the fast approaching winter on his tongue.

When he opens his eyes he questions his own actions, blinking rapidly, trying to clear his eyes before realisation dawn on him that the darkness shrouding his vision is due to the lack of sun trying to warm his skin and light the world, allowing the world to bask in an impenetrable inky darkness.

Niall breathes out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulders feeling lighter and his chest less tight as he hoists himself from the thickness of the grass, walking back towards his building, his feet sinking into the lashings of green as he looks up to the sky; his eyes missing the soft and gentle blue it held, just hours before it was replaced by the deathly black-blue expanse high above the trees currently, holding no form of emotion or sense of happiness, just an everlasting darkness that makes you question everything you once knew, trusted and believed in. 

Before he’s slipping himself back into his apartment and crawling into bed, his eyes slipping shut and willing sleep to take over his body quickly as he melts into his sheets, flashes of blue flickering behind his eye lids as sleep steals his thoughts, replacing them with aimless dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was more of a filler chapter, but I just wanted to put something up for you guys because you're all ace and I wanted to give you something to make Monday the best day ever!;)
> 
> Anyway, hope you liked it and I'd love to hear any and all of the comments or thoughts, positive or negative, that you have on this story. Also, any and all mistakes are of course my own and I'd love for you to check out my other work, if you want:)
> 
> -Don't be silent readers, let me know any and all comments that you have! Love you guys<3


	10. Chapter 10

The final notes of the end credit scroll down the screen, basking the living room in the final streams of light before the screen blacked out, leaving the boys in two separate darkness’s.

Harry’s eyes are closed shut, masking his emerald eyes from Zayn’s prying eyes, whilst Zayn’s vision is inhibited as he ducks his head down on top of Harry’s, said boy’s curls shrouding his vision as they wisp around his head.

“Haz,” Zayn coos, raising his head from Harry’s curls slowly and taking a final deep breath, letting the apple scent of Harry’s shampoo enter his system, making him grin cheerily.  “Wake up, Boo.” Zayn’s hands are gentle as they thread through Harry’s curls, raking his fingers back carefully as he tries to wake his boy.

“Zayn,” Harry whines, his eyes still squeezed shut as he half-heartedly slaps at Zayn’s sides. “Sleeping,” Zayn chuckles as Harry buries his nose deeper into his side, huffing out deep breaths that flutter through the light fabric of Zayn’s shirt, hitting his skin and making him shiver involuntarily.  
“I know, but you need to get up, you’re gonna get a crick in your neck laid like that.”  Zayn whispers, trying to convince the stubborn boy that he just can’t get enough of.  
“Don’t care.”  Harry mumbles, tucking himself deeper into Zayn’s side and bringing his feet up to sit under his thighs.

Zayn sighs deeply and affectionately at his boy, his hands still twisting in Harry’s curls before he wraps his hands around Harry’s waist and he’s pulling him to sit on his lap, Harry’s head nestled into his chest instead, like a small child on their parent’s chest.  “See, that’s better isn’t it?  More comfortable?”

Harry playfully bites at the fabric of Zayn’s shirt, causing Zayn to jump slightly as Harry’s teeth graze his skin, before Harry is kissing in apology to both Zayn and the fabric of his shirt.  “Yeah,” Zayn grins as Harry yawns small around his words, Zayn’s hands running up and down Harry’s sides as hot breath dances in between the fibres of his shirt.  “You smell nice.”  Zayn snorts, an endearing grin stretching his lips as Harry noses more intently at his shirt.  
“Thanks, babe.”  
“Anytime,”  Harry smiles, pulling his head back to look up at Zayn, his eyes shiny and happy as he squints up at him, before his attention is quickly averted to the buzzing in his pocket, the vibrations travelling into Zayn’s thigh also.  Harry sighs as he tries to wiggle himself in Zayn’s lap so that he is able to get his phone, making Zayn chuckle and Harry glare playfully back towards him. 

Once Harry’s phone is pulled from his pocket he is quick to swipe over the screen, his eyebrows furrowing when he sees Stan’s name pop up on the home screen.  “What’s wrong?”  Zayn asks, his posture stiffening as he watches Harry’s shoulders tense.

“Stan says that there’s something up with Lou,” Harry frowns, re-reading the words on his phone screen carefully.  “Says he’s not been answering his calls and he didn’t come into work today, wouldn’t even open the door when Stan went round.”  Zayn frowns, his mouth pressing into a pout as he thinks through his words.  
“Maybe he went out last night and is still hung over?”  Harry is quick to shake his head, his curls drooping into his eyes at his movements.  
“He’s very rarely hung over.”

Harry smiles, his mind’s eye re-living the amount of times that Louis has been the one pulling his hair off of his face as he brings up all the liquid fun that they consumed on nights out and the dramatic whines he made about how he ‘wouldn’t be doing this next time’, regardless of the fact that he was there every time, instantly on the ball and ready to help when Harry was as sick as a dog.  “Plus he would call in sick, not leave people hanging, he’s not like that.”

“Do you think he’s okay?” Harry’s eyebrows furrow deeper, almost meeting in the centre of his forehead as he shrugs his shoulders sadly.  
“I don’t know.” And Harry just sounds so broken, his voice timid and cautious as his face loses its previously childish glow and his mouth settles into a sad little line.  
“We could go round, maybe?  Y’know he’d never reject you, Haz.”  Harry smiles small at Zayn’s suggestion, burrowing his face into Zayn’s shirt, clamping his eyes closed as he presses and open mouth kiss to Zayn’s chest and breathes in his scent deeply before he sets his feet on the floor and re-pockets his phone.    
“Yeah, I think we should.”

Zayn rises quickly from the sofa, flicking off the TV and entwining his fingers with Harry’s rubbing his thumb across the back of Harry’s hand as they walk out of Harry’s apartment, their destination set for Louis’ apartment.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are, of course, my own, and if you have any comments, positive or negative, then please let me know!  
> -Don't be silent readers, let me know any and all comments, thoughts and opinions that you have, please, much love<3
> 
> This is for my *silent reader*, you make me smile, love you<3
> 
> Check out my other work, if you want:)

As their feet hit the old wood of the stairs leading up to Louis’ apartment, their footfalls lightening due to the loss of creaking floorboards and the introduction of an old shabby carpet under their feet as they edge closer to the small wooden door, the number crooked against its stained surface.

“I’m sorry that we didn’t get to spend today doing what you wanted, Zee.”  Harry whispers his voice sad and sorrowful and his nose tinted pink from the chill of the outside air, and all Zayn can do is stop himself from leaning down and kissing the regretful look from his lips; not that he tries very hard.

As their lips bind in the stuffy heat of the corridor to Louis’ apartment, Zayn’s lips feel the quirk of a smile radiating from Harry’s own as their breaths mingle.

“Don’t be sorry when you don’t need to be, Haz.”  Zayn whispers as he pulls away, his eyes focusing on Louis’ door and tugging Harry the final few inches toward it.  “Here we are.”  
“Here we are.”  Harry agrees, his eyes downcast at the ratty ‘welcome’ mat positioned lopsided by the door.

And that’s where they stand as Harry wills his courage to come to the surface and play an active role in his current predicament.  “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Haz, he’s your best friend.”

Then Harry’s hand is reaching out towards the door, his knuckles rapping against the wood before he splits his lips apart, trying to form words that are stuck, dead in his bone-dry throat.  “Lou, it’s me, open up, yeah?”

Harry’s heart beats sporadically in his chest, his mouth drying up before he’s calling out again, his forehead nearly pressing into the grain of the wood as his eyes close in distress. 

His knuckles clench against the wood as he wills the door to open with his mind, Zayn’s hand settled against the bottom of his spine, rubbing comforting circles into his trembling flesh.  “C’mon, Lou, please, I just wanna know that you’re okay.”

“What if I’m not okay?”  Comes a small voice behind the door, a voice too quiet and self-conscious to be that of Louis Tomlinson, but then the door is being slowly pulled open, revealing none other than the fail form of said boy.

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat as his eyes focus in on the ghostly pale skin stretched across Louis’ bones, his cheekbones unnaturally protruding through his paper-thin flesh.  Then they’re sliding down his frame to his mottled arms, flashes and purples and blues dancing along his forearms in vibrantly brutal patterns.

“W-what happened, Lou?”  Harry whispers, his hand reaching out towards Louis, feeling the shake of his bones under his fingertips and the coolness of his flesh.

Louis just shakes his head, his hair falling flat and lifeless against his forehead, drooping into his eyes as he makes no active move to stop it, using it as a shield from Harry’s wide, worried eyes.

“L-Lou?”  Harry’s breath hitches in his throat at just how damaged Louis looks and actually _feels_ under his fingers. 

Then their eyes are meeting and Harry can just see the remnants of long shed tears in his eyes and the birth of new ones, as the pair lock eyes:  Harry’s wide in fear and Louis’ empty of all emotion.

“C’mere.”  Harry chokes, holding his arms wide for Louis to fall into, his hands forming a vice grip around his trembling friend as silent sobs start to rattle through his bones, Louis’ body plaint under his fingers as he ushers him back inside of his apartment, Zayn trailing behind, his hand on Harry’s shoulder in support as Harry continues to hold his broken friend deep in his embrace, willing away the nagging in his chest that tells him that Louis’ hurt could have been prevented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are, of course, my own, and if you have any comments, positive or negative, then please let me know!  
> -Don't be silent readers, let me know any and all comments, thoughts and opinions that you have, please, much love<3
> 
> Check out my other work, if you want:)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are, of course, my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, then let me know!<3  
> -Don't be silent readers, let me know any and all thoughts, opinions and comments you have on this story please, make me work hard for your praise!
> 
> Also, check out my other work, if you want:)

Liam grins as he walks through the near-empty streets to the coffee shop, his footsteps the only sound echoing off of the tall, concrete buildings surrounding him until the soft, bright lights of the coffee shop jump into his vision.

Smiling as he shuffles himself through the door, un-tucking his hands from inside of his pockets and swiping at his hair quickly as Alex looks up towards the jingle of the bell above the door and presenting Liam with a small smile in return for a friendly wave, whilst he listens intently to the customer that he’s currently serving.

Liam’s cheeks tint red, biting at his lower lip like a school girl as he slips past Alex to stand behind the counter, reaching out for his apron off of the hook on the wall and sliding it over his head.  “Want some help, Li?”

Liam jumps from where he’s been stood staring at Alex’s bag that’s hidden under the counter, trying to see if he recognises any of the logos scattered across its surface, whilst his fingers fumbled with the aprons tie. 

“Uh, what?”  Liam’s cheeks darken as Alex chuckles, spinning Liam around, his hands a comforting weight on his waist before they’re travelling up his back, tying a bow in his apron to hold it in place.

“Tada!”  Alex chuckles, spinning on the spot to acknowledge the customer at the counter and prepare their order as Liam wills his heart to slow down so that his next set of words aren’t a jumble of letters spilling out from between his lips.

“Thanks, Alex.”  He stutters as he hands Alex a sugar sachet for his current customer’s order, slotting the change said customer placed on the counter into the till for Alex.  
“Anytime, Li, anytime.”  He smiles, his attention falling from the change slipping from between Liam’s fingers into their designated compartments, up into Liam’s eyes.

And wow, the colour of his eyes put the sky to shame, with how they shine in the most unearthly, yet the most brilliant way, when they capture the light; in Liam’s completely unbiased opinion, anyway.

A soft silence settles between the two boys as they nestle about behind the counter, taking people’s orders and cleaning up after themselves, passing small smiles between them and timid apologies when they get in each other’s way.

Alex waves a small goodbye to Liam as he slips out the back door for his break, the inky blackness looming into the shop when he opens the door to depart outside and swallowing him whole when he exits the shop.

Liam pouts to himself when he finds that his attention levels drop due to Alex’s absence, knowing that he’s outside making Liam more frustrated with himself as sees just how desperate he is. 

“I’m sorry, did you say with three sugar or two?”  The customer frowns at him, their forehead crinkling in a form of frustration that Liam mirrors. before repeating their order and stalking out of the coffee shop with an exaggerated sigh when Liam finally hands them their drink with a sorrowful smile and apology.

“Rough day?”  Alex asks, his voice getting louder as he travels closer and closer to Liam before propping himself up on the counter and watching Liam with concerned eyes whilst all Liam can concentrate on is the way his heart floods with relief upon Alex’s reappearance.

“Yeah, little bit.”  Liam frowns, rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands, trying to take his frustration out of his system a little, mad at himself for getting this way over a boy and even letting him _see_ him this way.

“N’awh, don’t worry, Li,” Alex grins, patting Liam on the back friendly, and Liam would be lying if he said his heart didn’t jump from his chest into his throat at the contact.  “We’ll be off in half an hour.  Plus, it’s hit that quiet, sleepy stage now.”

Liam turns himself to look out onto the streets, where even fewer people are wandering around than when he arrived and smiles small, knowing that the day is so nearly over and that he’s just that little bit closer to being able to crash on his bed and sleep off his frustrations.

“Yeah, thankfully.”  Liam mumbles, running his fingers through a patch of sugar dusting the top of the counter, with his pointer finger, drawing an ‘L’ into the granules before flicking his eyes up to Alex’s once again, spotting a childish grin lining his lips as their eyes connect.  “What’re you looking at?”

“You, silly.”  Alex chuckles, poking at Liam’s side quickly before turning to draw an ‘A’ next to Liam’s ‘L’ in the sugar.  “How was your weekend anyway, Li?  I forgot to ask.”

Liam shrugs, his eyes shining at just how _nice_ Alex is, his heart hurting from the affection that he feels towards this boy.  “Me and some friends went out drinking last night and I didn’t really do anything yesterday, you?”

Alex looks towards him with wide eyes, his mouth starting to drop open.  “Not a lot, went to see my mum,” He says sheepishly but Liam can’t help how his heart expands in his chest at just, well, _Alex_. “You went out last night and were able to wake up for work at 9 o’clock this morning?”  He continues and Liam nods, his head cocking to the side in confusion at the question.  
“Yeah, why?”  
Alex just shrugs,“I’m just surprised that anyone can work after drinking, y’know?  I’m normally in bed for the majority of the day when I drink, mostly because I can’t be bothered to move.”  Alex chuckles, making Liam laugh along too.

“No, I’m pretty good; it’s my friends that more or less end up in bed all day.  Especially Niall and Harry.”  Liam chuckles just at the images of them when they down more and more drinks on nights out, claiming that they’ll be ‘fine in the morning’.  He’s yet to see a morning when the pair don’t look like they’ve slept for a total of an hour, though.

Alex grins, leaning against the countertop, his forearms flat against the cool black marble worktop as he stares out towards the door, as if threatening people not to walk in when there’s just less than twenty minutes until the shop closes for the day.  “Yeah, well, I’m probably more or less like them, then.”

“You give public lap dances to your partners in the middle of clubs?”  Alex’s eyes widen before a large snort escapes and then a full barrel laugh slips from his mouth, his head been thrown back as he shuts his eyes in joy.

“No way!”  Liam grins as Alex slaps at the counter happily, causing the ‘A’ and ‘L’ to become slightly more deformed than before.  
“Yeah.”  Liam wipes down the countertop with a cloth, simultaneously popping the cutlery that they’ve used into the sink and turning on the tap, waiting for hot water to wash up with.  “He seemed pretty proud of himself this morning when he was told he’d done it as well.  No shame has Harry.”

“That’s just brilliant.”  Alex grins, joining Liam at the sink, pulling a towel off of the hook and beginning to dry the cutlery that Liam washes.  “He sounds mental.”  
“He is.”  Liam says, keeping his eye on his circular scrubbing motions on the surfaces of the dirty utensils.  “He’s brilliant; him and his boyfriend Zayn are amazing.”

Alex nods along, his smile lighting up the whole of his face as he dries each item, popping them back into their respective cupboards and drawers.  “Yeah?  They seem like fun.”  
“They are,” Liam agrees.  “They balance each other out.  Harry’s wild and Zayn calms him down, whilst Zayn’s more shy, Harry makes sure that their opinions are heard and Zayn’s more of a thinker, whilst Harry’s more of a doer.  They help complement each other in ways you’d never expect.”

Alex smiles in understanding as he looks into Liam’s eyes, a fire burning in them as he roasts Liam’s heart on a spit with the toothy grin he gives him. “They sound like they’re made for each other.”    
“They are.”  Liam whispers breathlessly as Alex’s eyes burn into his own, making his cheeks darken and his heart race in his chest.

Then Alex is smiling adorably towards Liam before he’s dropping down, picking up his bag and dropping it onto the counter.  “Time to go.”  Liam’s head shoots round to look at the clock on the far wall accusingly whilst holding in his loud groan of frustration and instead smiling fakely towards Alex as he tries to pull the knot out of his apron, sighing when he can’t get it undone.

“Want some help, Li?”  Liam nods as Alex slots behind him, his fingers so near yet so far from his skin as he tries to pick the knot apart to free Liam from his apron.  Alex frowns down at his fingers as he continues to try pull the knot to undo it. 

“Well at least we know that if I was ever to tie you up, you’d never get away.”  Alex chuckles, whilst Liam’s cheeks flame at the images that that statement puts inside of his head, chuckling out a nervous ‘yeah’, biting at this lip horrified at himself.

Finally the plastic apron is free from his body, Alex’s hands brushing against his biceps as he moves to pull the apron from his body with a smile.  “Never thought I’d get you out of that thing, Li.”  
“Yeah, same here.”  
“Don’t let me do that again, or one of these days you won’t get out of it!”  Liam nods in understanding, mentally screaming that he will never ask Alex to _not_ tie his apron for him.

Alex pulls his bag onto his shoulder as he hangs his and Liam’s aprons up on the hook behind the counter before turning to face Liam before slipping out from behind it and walking towards the door.  “Coming, Li?”

Liam instantly breaks himself free from his thoughts and instead walks on wobbly legs over to Alex, who’s smiling lazily as he leans against the door, his fingers poised and ready over the light switches.

As he presses them, the shop falls into complete darkness, just the streetlights from outside creating eerie shadows on the tables and chairs as the pair step out of the shop, Alex pushing his set of keys into the door and locking up behind them.

“Right then, Li, I’m working tomorrow, shall I see you?”  Liam furrows his eyebrows trying to think of his work schedule and nodding happily, making a wide grin spread across the expanse of Alex’s mouth, the barely-there scruff lining his jaw contorting around his smile.  “Perfect!  See you tomorrow, Li.  Have a good night.”  
“You too, Alex.”  Liam says as Alex turns on his heels, hoisting his backpack higher on his shoulders and setting off down the street in the opposite direction to Liam.  “Hey, Alex!”

Alex turns on his heels, his eyes confused as he looks at Liam, only the light from the overhead street light illuminating his form, and before Liam knows it, “Do you wanna get a coffee before work tomorrow?”, is sliding off of his tongue and out into the continually darkening atmosphere as he holds his breath, not allowing any ghosting breaths to escape from between his lips as he begs the ground to swallow him whole, dreading the humiliation that is destined to follow his question.

Then he’s nodding, Liam’s eyes catching but questioning the smile dancing across his lips as his head bobs, calling out a, “Course, Li.  See you tomorrow then, yeah?  Text me.”, and then he’s gone, his footsteps silent in the air as Liam internally praises himself, fist pumping the air as he sees Alex turn down a different road.

“Get in.”  Liam cheers, his breath being allowed to once again escape from between his lips as he walks with a skip in his step back towards his apartment, a toothy grin stuck to his lips as he walks with a skip in his step and a happy thrum in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are, of course, my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, then let me know!<3  
> -Don't be silent readers, let me know any and all thoughts, opinions and comments you have on this story please, make me work hard for your praise!
> 
> Also, check out my other work, if you want:)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say thank you to all you guys that are taking your time to read this, I initially started the first chapter back in July and never felt it was ever going to be a story that people would enjoy, but I think you are? Anyway, I just wanted to step back and say thank you, as this is my highest subscribed story and my second most read, after 'Goodbyes are too much to bear, so let’s look to tomorrow, see what waits for us there' and the response for that story blew my mind, so you guys are like, incinerating my brain with this story (in the best way, obviously!) Much love to you guys, I hope you enjoy what's still to come!<3
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know!:)  
> -Don't be silent readers!<3
> 
> Also, feel free to check out my other work, if you want:)

They sit in silence with the curtains drawn across the windows, banning the artificial light from the outside streetlights from entering into the room, forcing them into darkness as Louis curls himself up on the sofa, the cushions dipping under his weight, whilst Harry looks towards him with desperate sad eyes and Zayn dawdles in the kitchen, making tea for the three of them.

“Lou?”  Harry’s voice is quiet, even in the deathly silence of the room, as if fearful that if he speaks even a decibel higher that Louis is break more than he already has.

Louis looks towards Harry, his eyes hollow yet cautious and lined with dampness as he tugs his knees to sit up around his face, shielding himself from Harry’s piercing stare as he toys with a loose thread on the hem of his oversized, faded sleep shirt.  “What happened?”

Louis’ eyes fall to the floor, his heart plummeting with them, as he just shakes his head pitifully towards Harry, trying desperately to keep his shoulders from shuddering nervously whilst Harry’s mouth falls down his face into a frown.  “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because there’s nothing you can do.”  Louis mumbles, the majority of his syllables diffusing into the ratty joggers loosely wrapped around his legs, instead of into the stuffy air of his apartment.

Harry groans, yanking frustrated at his curls, “Why can’t I help you, Lou?  Why can’t I?”  Harry chokes, his voice desperate as it peels from his throat, his hand reaching out towards Louis, expecting to be rejected, but instead Louis almost _melts_ into his touch.

“Because you can’t.”  Louis whispers, his voice cracking as he hears the disappointment flooding Harry’s sighs and the crinkles setting up camp on his forehead, temporarily aging his best friend.

Zayn walks into the room moments later, mismatched mugs of tea in his hands before he places them down on the messy coffee table in Louis’ living room and sitting carefully back in the arm chair across the other side of the room, trying to keep out of the confrontation taking place.

“Why can’t I, Lou?”  Harry begs, his eyebrows furrowing in desperation and sadness as he watches Louis try to still his wobbling lower lip, his eyes hollow and free from their usual childish glint.  “Seriously, what reason is there that I, your _best_ friend, can’t help you?  Please, just answer that.” 

Louis sighs sadly, tears welling up in his eyes as the memories break free from the vault inside of his head, polluting his mind with horrid pictures he had been determined to lock away forever; images that he doesn’t want to be put into Harry’s head.  “Because it’s over now, the Police are handling it.” 

Harry gasps, his eyes wide in panic, “The Police?  What happened, Louis, tell me please.”  Harry’s eyes shine, but not in the way that make Louis or Zayn happy, they’re shining with the speckles of new tears as he pleads with Louis to tell him what Louis doesn’t even want to admit to himself. “God, what’s wrong?”

Louis shakes his head in defeat, curling back into himself, his face ducking behind his arm, his mottled skin thrumming under the light contact, making him wince as he avoids the desperate eyes of Harry and Zayn, who are looking towards each other with mutual fear in their eyes.

Louis feels the stroke of a hand on his arm, making him coil further into himself until he peeks a look from under his arm to see Zayn leaning across the seat with a mug of hot tea held under Louis’ nose.

“Yorkshire Tea,” He smiles, his eyes free from any form of judgement as they meet Louis’ and just wide and honest as he hands over the mug. “I know you like it.”

“Thanks, Zayn.”  Louis whispers, taking the hot porcelain from between Zayn’s hands and holding it in his own, basking in the feel of a comforting heat warming his icy skin.  He brings the mug to his mouth quickly, desperate to feel the tea stream down his throat, subconsciously trying to scrub away any and all tastes that are foreign in his mouth.

The liquid is hot as it scalds his tongue, burns his gums and tears away at his throat, but he can honestly say that slashes the tea leaves in his mouth and throat are nothing in comparison to the periodic throbbing of his body.

Once the liquid is settled inside of his stomach, he pulls the mug from his mouth, wrapping and un-wrapping his fingers from the handle of the mug as he tries to avoid Harry’s deep, curious eyes.

Zayn shifts in his seat from opposite Louis, reaching out to grab his own mug of tea from the table top and sipping it slowly, giving Louis a small, friendly smile over the brim as he takes a mouthful.

“Lou,” Harry whines, becoming impatient as he sees the true extent of the speckled bruises painted across his friend’s skin, eyes wandering to see how they also travel down the column of his throat, though in smaller amounts.

“Haz,” Zayn warns, his face understanding as he watches Louis squirm in his seat under all of the pressure, making Harry pout sadly, his attention flicking slyly, like a scolded child, between him and Louis before tucking his feet under himself and sitting in the silent, almost-darkness, biting at his bottom lip.

And that’s how they stay, until Louis’ throat clenches around the words that he should never have been forced to say, nor have experienced.  “I-I was,” He swallows audibly, wringing his hands nervously as Harry leans into his being, as if hanging off every word.  “I was, I was r-raped.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this story as much as I am, it's growing right before my eyes as I keep writing new things all the time for it and I really want to make it as good as possible for you guys, I hope I am!:)
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know!:)  
> -Don't be silent readers!<3
> 
> Also, feel free to check out my other work, if you want:)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying this story so far, please let me know your thoughts - don't be silent readers!<3
> 
> Anyway, any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know!
> 
> Also, check out my other work, if you'd like:)

Harry stills in his seat, his teeth stopping their tirade on his lower lip and his jaw clenching as he turns to Louis, to be able to see him laugh at his expression and chuckle madly to himself, throwing his head back in joy for making Harry worry over nothing.

But it doesn’t come.

Only an eerie silence, periodically broken up by the rhythmic breathing of the three boys as they just watch one another, their words like gags around their mouths.

And then a silent tear is rolling from Harry’s eye and he’s throwing himself around Louis, who’s heart clenches in his chest: he shouldn’t be touching Harry, lovely and wonderful Harry, when he’s like this; when he’s damaged, contaminated goods.

Louis pushes Harry away, tears welling in his own eyes as Harry stares back at him with sad, empty orbs, their vibrant green lost to depths of streaky grey.  “Don’t touch me.” Louis whispers, his voice broken, even to his own ears.

“Lou,” Harry pleads, his eyes watery and his voice lost as it travels from his mouth into Louis’ ears.  
“Haz, don’t touch me, please, don’t touch me.”

Then Louis is all out sobbing, his tears seeping into the fibres of the sofa, dampening the area near his face as he just crumples and lets out all of the sadness that he refused to allow the Police officers see.

“Lou, it’s okay.”  Harry whispers, reaching over to tug Louis into his arms, into his warm embrace, but Louis forces him away quickly, desperate to keep Harry clean and good: better than himself.  
“Don’t touch me.”

“Why can’t I touch you, Lou?”  Harry pleas, his hands flapping around himself wildly in demonstration as he shuffles himself in his seat to look head-on at Louis, to see the deep black bags hanging below his eyes in the dark light of the living area. “I don’t understand, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Because I’m dirty.” Harry eyes him with wide, confused eyes.  “I don’t want to damage you, I’m contaminated, Haz.  I was r-”  Louis’ words get clogged in his throat, his body begging him not to admit what happened to him, to just forget the pain that he endured, both emotionally and physically and push the venomous images into the deepest depths of his mind. 

“I was raped.”  Louis breathes, his words heavy on his tongue.  “I don’t deserve to be comforted when I’m not even worthy of respect.”  Louis sobs, burying himself between the sofa’s cushions, seeking out an escape that he knows won’t come.

“You’re not dirty, Lou.”  You’re you, okay?  You’re you and you is perfect.”  Harry reassures his cheeks flushed as he tries to convince Louis of just how wrong he is, shuffling on the sofa, reaching his hand out towards Louis who shies away from the contact instantly – he doesn’t deserve it.

“Then why was I _raped_ , Haz?”  Louis shouts, his voice cracking on his words, his sobs becoming more violent, big, fat tears pooling in his eyes.  “If I’m so goddamn perfect, then why did someone do that to me, huh?  How am I fucking perfect when I’m treated like a bloody animal, like a prostitute!  How can I be anything but dirty?” Louis’ voice catches on his words, making his sentences become lost in deep, uneven breaths and watery sobs.

Then Louis is being taken into strong arms, them holding him tight, even when he kicks and screams in teary shouts for them to let him go, his arms and legs thrashing in their hold until he’s just a sobbing mess with tears clouding his vision and his throat cracked and broken by his constant screams.

“Don’t touch me.” He whispers, his energy draining from his system as he slumps sadly into the pair of arms, his fingers subconsciously clinging to them as he wills his eyes to stay open, to keep his eyes on the world and protect himself from the dangers he, up until now, never really knew existed. 

But it’s no use as the arms lift him up and pull him in close to their torso, the heat comforting against his pyjama-clad form as his eyes flutter closed, the sound of Zayn’s voice convincing him to sleep whilst his hands rub delicate circles into his bruises, calming the pulsing beneath the skin that they each cause, and Louis can now understand why Harry’s always going on about Zayn’s massages; he understands the appeal now, before his vision fades to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is so close to 1,000 hits, I can't believe it! This started out as a small idea on a Saturday a few months ago, with only one chapter and was just sitting on my laptop because I didn't think it would transpire into anything. Yet, I'd like to think that you guys have proved me wrong, and that this story has grown into something that you want to read and something that I really enjoy writing! 
> 
> Honestly, every time I log in and see the hits, comments and kudos grow my heart swells in my chest, because you guys are giving me the chance to do something that I love and I really want to be able to give you a good plot and story line for the affection that you guys are giving both this story and me. 
> 
> Anyway, away from all the thank you's and love for all of you guys, *silent reader*, I hope that you guys are all okay and are ready for Christmas and I wish you all the best into next year!<3
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own, and if you have any comments, positive or negative, let me know!<3
> 
> Also, if you want to, please feel free to check out my other work:)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own, and if you have any comments, positive or negative, I'd love to hear them - don't be silent readers, let me know your thoughts please and how I can improve this story:)
> 
> Much love to all the people that helped this story get to over 1,000 hits - you're all brilliant and I love you all!<3
> 
> Also, feel free to check out my other work, if you ever need anything to read as there's a lot to choose from!:)

Zayn walks cautiously out of Louis’ room, pulling the door shut behind himself carefully, mindful of Louis’ restless sleeping state as he tiptoes down the hallway to the living room, leaning on the doorway as he watches Harry piling up all of the magazines and letters that had originally been messily lining the coffee table.

“You alright, Haz?”  Harry turns to him with wide eyes, his mouth set in a small, sad line as his hair flops into his face as he continues to organise the masses of papers into piles, clearing space on the coffee table before shaking his head sadly, sliding down onto his knees on the old carpet of Louis’ apartment.

“No.”  Harry croaks, blinking hard to hold back his tears as Zayn heads towards him instinctively, his body acting to instantly calm Harry when Zayn’s within touching distance.  “I don’t think so.”  Harry chuckles when Zayn drops himself on the floor, pulling Harry closely into his side and stroking his fingers lovingly through his hair.

Harry kicks of his shoes, leaving his sock clad feet to nestle against the short fibres of Louis’ apartment as he pulls them under himself, turning to lay against Zayn’s side, his fingers playing with the short baby hairs at the nape of Zayn’s neck as his mind flashes back to how _broken_ Louis had looked, how Harry hadn’t been there to stop it, to protect his best friend in return for all the times he had done the same for him.

“I should have helped him.”  Harry whispers, his breath hot against Zayn’s neck as he talks, his feet poking at Zayn’s thigh as they curl into one another, their feet entangling and eyes meeting in an electrified gaze.

“How could you have helped him, Haz?  You were completely out of it last night,” Zayn chuckles when Harry’s cheeks flush – he must know, Zayn thinks with a smirk. “Plus you didn’t even know where he was.”  Zayn reasons, seeing how Harry’s eyes droop in frustration at himself, his bottom lip bitten raw as his teeth continue to dig into it.

“I should have been there anyway.”  Harry argues, his eyes hard as he looks towards his hands, his fingers clenching unhappily at himself and his own need to get legless last night instead of being there for his friend.  “He needed me, and I wasn’t there.”

“He needed anyone, Haz, don’t blame yourself.  Anyone could have, and would have, helped him if they knew what was happening.” Zayn whispers, kissing at Harry’s curls as his body slumps deeper into his own.

“Maybe,”  Harry frowns, the corners of his mouth pulling down heavily as he entwines his fingers with Zayn’s, his mind still reeling at leaving Louis to endure what he did on his own.  “Is he okay?”

Zayn’s thumb runs over the back of his hand, much like it had this morning at the kitchen table when their world seemed to be building up, not falling down all around them.  When they finally said those words that have wanted to be expressed by his heart, but stopped by his brain for so long.

“Yeah, he’s asleep.” Harry visibly relaxes as the words sink in, his lips rising slightly into an almost-smile in relief for his friend.  “He’ll be alright, Haz, he’s strong.”

Harry smiles wide, because yeah, Louis is the strongest person he knows and there is _no_ way that he’ll let Harry look stronger than him, ever.  “Yeah, he’s brilliant.”

“That he is,” Zayn agrees, nosing at Harry’s curls, his breath blowing some stray curls out from under his mouth and nose with a smile.  “Now stop blaming yourself, yeah?  You were right here when he needed you and that is all you could’ve done, okay?” 

Harry nods, a shy smile on his lips as he leans up to kiss Zayn’s lips chastely before pulling away slowly with a shine of hope in his eyes and the start of a smile tugging at his lips right under Zayn’s eyes and his heart booms in his chest, ramming against his ribcage at just how much he _adores_ Harry.

“I love you.”  Zayn whispers, his eyes soft and smile gentle as he watches Harry’s smile enlarge to such a scale that he questions what has just occurred in their lives and the sadness that had been in his eyes just moments before.

“I love you too, Zee.”  Harry noses at Zayn’s throat, pressing a kiss to his Adam’s apple before leaning down into Zayn’s lap, looking up at him through happy eyes as his hair flops out behind his head over Zayn’s lap like a halo before shutting his eyes slowly, his face softening as his body falls pliant, Zayn’s hand in his hair as he loses his battle to unconsciousness, his mind bathing in images of Zayn smiling in the months that they’ve known each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm here once again to thank you lovely people that made this story as big as it is and I love you for it, I never expected this sort of outcome! Anyway, I really hope that you're enjoying this story and that you're all happy and okay, I love you guys, I really do<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like and don't forget to leave your thoughts on this story please, I love reading what you guys have to say:)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much love to all of my readers and the feedback and kudos you're leaving - it's mind blowing!<3
> 
> Anyway, as always any and all mistakes are my own and don't be silent readers, let me know any comments, positive or negative, that you have please!
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you want:)

Louis’ thoughts are blackened, all happy images burnt and torn apart by the harrowing images that were forced into his eyes just hours before; evil near-black eyes beacons in the darkness coating his eyes, mocking him as he wills his body to pull himself from his dream, to wake himself and keep his attacker out of his life.

“I know you want it, baby.”  The voice cackles, syllables echoing tauntingly inside of Louis’ mind as he tries to control his body, to create enough movement for him to wake himself up, to save himself from his imagination.  “Don’t fight it, baby, no one needs to know that you like it.”

“But I don’t like it.”  Louis whispers, his knuckles clenching in his sheets as the man continues to look towards him, his eyes almost daring Louis to speak out against him.  “I don’t want it.”

His attacker’s eyes brighten at Louis’ words, his teeth coming out to play as he bites up Louis’ neck, leaving sticky marks and the stench of alcohol up the tan column, his tongue coming out to lick over his bites.  “Course you do, baby.  You know you want it.  Don’t fight it, darling.”

Louis squirms in his bed, kicking at his sheets as he tries to fight off his attacker, trying to free himself from his hold, but his hands are like handcuffs around his wrists, breaking the skin as Louis tugs himself away from his grasp.  “No, I-I don-”

“Yes, baby, yes.  I know what you want, darling and I’ve got it here.”  Louis makes a quivering noise low in his throat in fear as the man’s hands trail over his skin, his hands rough and careless as he scrapes at Louis’ skin, making him keen in pain at the scratches against his icy flesh. 

“You want it so bad, baby, so bad,” His hands grope over Louis’ crotch, making Louis freeze, his breathing becoming laboured as the man continues his movements, regardless of Louis’ aims to fight back.  “Oh, you want it.” 

Then the man’s hands are trailing over the zipper of his jeans, his nail scraping over the metal as his eyes bore into Louis’, them cloudy with lust and drunkenness as he continues to lick at Louis’ throat. 

The man leans over Louis, towering over him as his body presses against Louis’, stopping him from running away or squirming excessively in his grasp whilst his hand travels up Louis’ zipper, his fingers resting over it as his fingers begin to tug it down the tooth of the zipper, the sound like nails on a blackboard in Louis’ horrified mind.

“Are you okay?”  Louis breath hitches in his throat as he looks over the man, his eyes landing on a figure, wider and taller than himself, with flashes of crumpled blonde hair on his head, illuminated by the streetlight glaring in at the end of the alley.

Louis gulps, watching with wide eyes as the man holding him against the wall smirks towards the man, his eyes confident yet clouded by alcohol as he slurs, “Oh, he’s okay, he’s just waiting for what he wants, aren’t you, darling?”

The blonde man’s eyes flicker over Louis’ face, his eyes shadowed by the direction of the light and deemed not visible to Louis’ eyes as he bites back his tears and the sob he wants to bring up his throat as his attacker holds him in his arms tightly, his grasp threatening as he looks deep in Louis’ eyes, freezing his soul with the dead look in the man’s eyes.  “You’re okay, aren’t you, baby?”

Louis nods, not trusting his voice as his shoulders quiver just with the fear currently pulsing through his veins as the man keeps his hold tight on his shoulders, keeping him in his hands as he talks to the curious male, the male that could potentially help him, if he tries to ask for it.

Louis chokes on his plea for help when the man’s hand becomes tighter on the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on it roughly making Louis yelp under his breath as the blonde man begins to walk down the alleyway, only to continue walking out into the moonlit horizon as Louis’ security is ripped from him, one pain inducing thrust at a time.

“Louis, calm down, you’re okay, mate.” Louis’ eyes continue to battle against his intentions to free himself from the venomous images flooding his mind, away from the way his attacker looked at him as if he was just a _plaything_ , an item that could be disposed after use, not a human being, like him.  The way he had just laughed when Louis cried; big, fat tears falling onto the dirty concrete of the alley, painting his sadness for all to see, as he just took him there, with no care for Louis.

 Not that he would anyway, who rapes someone with the intension of caring for another’s needs, that defeats the whole meaning of the word, sadly.

“Lou, c’mon, you’re okay.”  Louis groans in his sleep, wiping at his eyes with his fists as he hiccups on a tearful breath, squirming into the sheets of his bed, his being so close to consciousness that he can almost touch it. “Wake up, Lou.”

Louis’ breath is laboured as he bolts upright, scrambling his whole body up to the head of the bed and pulling the covers tight around his being, using them as a protective shield that he never had when he truly needed it.  His eyes are wide and pooling with tears as they focus in on the worried eyes of Zayn and Harry leant over his being. 

“Haz, Zayn?”  Louis whispers before Harry is wrapping him up in his arms, wiping away his tears with his long fingers and holding Louis tightly, rocking him in his arms as he tries to wish away the fear in Louis’ eyes and the tremble in his bones, the way Louis doesn’t instantly melt into his arms like he used to.

“Tea?”  Zayn whispers, leaning to sit on the edge of Louis’ bed, folding his duvet to sit correctly over Louis’ body as he looks towards Louis with a kind, calm smile and eyes warm like honey.

And before Louis knows it, he’s nodding with a small, teary smile and then Zayn’s smiling back as he goes to make them tea, leaving Harry and Louis ultimately comforting one another as they try to hold in their broken sobs, burying themselves in the covers, wrapped up in one another, their tears running down the other’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much love to all of my brilliant readers and the feedback and kudos you're leaving this story - it's absolutely mind blowing and I's love to see even more of your comments: make me work harder for praise, people!<3
> 
> Anyway, as always any and all mistakes are my own and don't be silent readers, let me know any comments, positive or negative, that you have please!
> 
> Also, feel free to check out my other work, if you want, there's quite a few to choose from!:)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit off a rubbish filler chapter, though really it can hardly be classed as a chapter, if we're being honest! I'm also sorry to all of you guys who want to see some Nouis, but I think it'll be a while coming - I don't want to do it yet because, I'm not going to lie, I honestly cannot think of a way for them to meet and it not seem stupid and 'like every other story', y'know? Anyway, I'm open for ideas and kicks up the bum to get my ideas together and produce the story line that you guys want:)
> 
> Anyway, any and all mistakes are of course my own and don't be silent readers - let me know any and all comments, positive or negative, that you have!<3
> 
> Also, feel free to check out my other work!:)

Niall wakes up in a fit of worried whimpers as he wills his eyes open as the cold air seeps into his bedroom from the open window across the room that he forgot to close hours before.

His skin is tacky as he rolls himself in his sheets, tugging his hand through the sleep-induced knots in his hair.  Need to ask Zayn to dye it for me again, he reminds himself as he rubs at his eyes violently, urging them to focus on something that isn’t a collection of blurry dots.

Rolling out of his sheets Niall looks down to his feet, solid mud patches clinging to his feet and grass stains lining the jeans that cover his knees, his mind running back over the way the moon hung tauntingly in the sky, giving out light that ached deep in Niall’s chest when he saw the brightness of it, the solidity of its undeniable power above him.

His toes wiggle against the fibres of the shabby carpet lining his bedroom as he stumbles into the bathroom, his eyes meeting his reflection in the mirror, studying the remains of tear tracks racing down his cheeks, rimming his eyes in scarlet red gashes.

His fingers rise up to his face, sliding the lengths through the deathly remains of the salty sadness swirling down the ghostly pale planes of his skin, frowning as his heart feels heavy in his chest at the contact of his physical sadness in his hands; the sadness he doesn’t remember first handily feeling, quaking his bones or numbing his mind.

The floor is cold against his bare feet, but his mind is too far from his body to register the icy tiles nipping at his feet like piranhas as he just watches himself, wonder in his eyes as his blue orbs brim with a new set of tears, hot against his skin as they flood over the brims of his eyes, dousing his face in their heat as they plummet floor wards.

Niall’s hands shake as they reach up to brush away the tears, forcing them from his face as he takes deep, heavy breaths convincing his emotions to drop down dead and just let him roll back into bed, to lose all of his thoughts to sleep and stop them running wild with his body.

His heart thrums heavy and ferociously in his chest as his feet lead him back into his bedroom, wrapping his frame up in his duvet and nestling up to his pillows as he reaches for his phone from his bedside table and quickly tapping away at the screen, sending a message off to Zayn asking him when he can dye his hair – knowing that he’ll forget once he wakes up after his submission to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rubbish, wasn't it? Anyway, there's more to come, I swear! I have the next 2 and a half chapters planned and I really hope that you'll like them!
> 
> Also, I'd love to know whether or not the slowburn of this story is okay, I'm just trying to get the like, the backgrounds and stuff of relationships and events into this story to make it seem more real and not just 'Niall meets Louis and they fall in love and are currently on their way to adopt 47 children', if you know what I mean? I'm also trying to explore the characters more with how they act to create a more real life view of what would happen to them if this story was true.
> 
> Anyway, please let me know, your comments, kudos and hits help make me want to work harder to get more and more praise! Love you all, beyond words!<3


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments let me know please - don't be silent readers!<3

Harry’s heart twists in his chest, contorting his body in such a way that it physically hurt to breathe as Louis’ tears dampen his shirt, his own doing the same to his rose-speckled cheeks.

Louis’ body shakes in his hands, his skin cold under Harry’s fingertips as he whispers supportively sweet nothings into his sleep-matted hair, forcing him to care for Louis before himself as he wipes away at Louis’ tears, clearing his eyes of their glossy state.

“Lou, you’re okay.” Harry whispers, his nose buried deep in Louis’ matted hair, his breathing heavy as he feels the tremble in Louis’ own breaths.  “You’re okay, yeah, you’re okay.”  Louis nods quickly, his hands rising to wipe frustrated at his face, his fingers angrily flicking away the moisture building up there.

“No one’s gonna hurt you, yeah?” Louis hiccups, his fingers dropping to his mouth, biting at his fingers as he tries to calm his mind, to stop his strangled sobs and the fast tracks of his hot, salty tears.  “No one, I swear.” 

“You’re safe here, never gonna let anyone hurt you, gonna keep you safe like I should’ve before, yeah?  Protect my best friend.”  Louis raises his head to look up at Harry then, his eyes wide and dismal as they connect with Harry’s, a teary frown yanking the corners of his lips down.

“You did protect me.”  Louis half smiles, wiping at Harry’s tears carefully and dragging his hand through Harry’s curls, pushing them off of his forehead and tucking loose strands behind his ear affectionately as he repositions himself in his bed, twisting to sit and look up at Harry.

Harry makes a choked sound as his mouth twists into a frown, his tears slowing their fall from his eyes as he twists his fingers with Louis’.  “I didn’t protect you.”  Harry shakes his head sorrowfully when Louis tries to speak.  “I wasn’t there, Lou.  I should’ve been there, but I wasn’t.  I wasn’t there to protect you in the way that I should’ve.” 

Harry’s voice trembles over his syllables but he swallows down the need to cry; the need to comfort Louis being his only necessity at that moment.  “I needed to be there, as a best friend, I needed to be there.  I needed to protect you and I failed you on that but I _promise_ I’ll protect you at all costs now, no matter what, Lou.  I’ll be there, always.”

Then Louis is the one pulling a sobbing boy into his body, feeling the rattle of cries and tears as they diffuse through his scruffy sleepwear from Harry’s tearful form.  “You protected me, Hazza Boo.”

Harry tries to babble through his tears, his eyes meeting Louis’ own forlornly as he shakes his head in desperation.  “You did, Haz, okay?  You made me a strong enough person with how you’ve helped me before to trust myself to get over this, yeah?”

“But I should have _been_ there.”  Harry argues, his hands flailing as he wiggles about in Louis’ grasp, his breathing maddening as he yanks at his hair violently, his body squirming under the pain but his body not acknowledging the hurt it causes.

“You’ve done all you could’ve done, Haz.  The Police are taking care of it, there’s nothing else you can do, yeah?  You buy me ice cream and I’ll be fixed.”  Louis jokes, his voice light, making Harry groan in frustration, throwing himself out of Louis’ grasp and stalking around the room, his movements’ jerky as his eyes flame in their sockets.

“No, Lou!”  Harry shouts, his voice high-pitched and angry as he points a trembling finger towards Louis, who’s tangled in his sheets alone.  “I should have been there, okay?  I _should’ve_ , but I wasn’t and I needed to be – I can’t be your best friend if I can’t help you when you bloody need it!” 

Louis shuffles up the bed, his body trembling as Harry groans ferociously, his cheeks red and his fists clenched before he un-hooks his fingers once again, pointing an angry finger back towards Louis.

“Why can’t you just say it, huh?  Say that I should’ve been there, that I didn’t help you when I needed to and that now is no use!  That this,” He points between himself and Louis furiously, his posture strong.  “Is useless!  I haven’t helped you.  All that I’ve done is wipe away the tears that I could have prevented.  That’s it, that’s all that I have helped you with, Lou.”

Louis quakes, reaching out toward Harry as he crawls down the bed, his heart hammering in his chest as Harry stills, his eyes still ablaze as they settle on Louis.

 “All I did was that, when I could’ve made sure you _never_ needed to cry them.  You could have been smiling today, but I stole that from you.  I could’ve changed what you had to endure, but I was too selfish and went out to get _pissed_ , instead of protect my best friend.”

“You didn’t steal that from me, Haz.”  Louis whispers, sitting up on the end of the bed, his fingers reaching out to settle on Harry’s arm, his muscles clenched under his fingers as Harry sucks in a deep breath, closing his eyes and willing his eyes to hide his sadness at the meaning behind his friend’s word: someone stole the smile from Louis’ lips in return for a quick, selfish shag on a street corner.

“I can’t stay here.”  Harry breaths, his fists clenching and unclenching as he bites at his tongue, his teeth sharp against the muscle as he tries to inflict some sort of pain in respite for that that Louis had endured himself.  “I’m sorry, Lou.  I can’t do this.”

Harry’s eyes open then, and Louis can see the pure and undoubted _pain_ in Harry’s eyes as he looks at him, sees Harry’s eyes course over his body, sees them etch the bruises splattered onto Louis’ skin into his mind and his jaw churn under his skin in repulsion when the bruises never seem to end.

“It’s okay, Haz.”  Louis smiles, stroking at Harry’s wrist delicately as Harry melts into his touch before pulling himself away slowly, his eyes sincere and sorry as their skins part and the warmth that had formed between them fades into an icy coolness.

“I’m sorry.”  Harry whispers, tracing his fingers over Louis’ jaw softly, feeling the softness of Louis’ skin under his fingertips as his eyes try to focus on his blue orbs, not the splashes of purple and black around them. 

Then Louis is smiling in a way that is just _so_ Louis and Harry’s heart swells in his chest just seeing a glimpse of his old Louis in this ghost of Louis.  “It’s okay, Haz, honestly.” 

Harry nods slowly, his lips tipping into a quiet grin, his eyes shining when Louis grins after him, the door shutting behind himself before he falls down to the bottom of it, his teeth biting down on his hand just as Zayn walks into the hallway, his hands loaded down with mugs and a loving smile on his lips that just breaks Harry, then he’s bawling into his hands with Zayn’s arms twisted around his body and Louis’ pitiful tears a backdrop to his own, behind the wood of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I need to beg for feedback, cause I'm not below that.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you hadn't already guessed I'm just a little bit in love with Zarry at this moment in time, but don't worry, I promise that Nouis will make it's screen debut - not sure when, but it will, I swear! I'm also just a little bit in love with MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and I'd love to hear your comments on this story - don't be silent readers please!<3
> 
> Check out my other work, if you want:)

Zayn quickly lowers the mugs of steaming tea to the floor, dropping to his knees before tugging Harry into his arms, his fingers dancing in soothing circles on his back to quieten his mournful sobs.

“I’m okay.”  Harry whispers, his breath hot on Zayn’s neck as his tears begin to slow and cool on his skin, leaving it mottled in red as he leans into Zayn.   “I’m okay.”

“Yeah?”  Zayn whispers, hearing Louis’ movements from behind the door, the shuffle of his feet on the carpet getting closer to the door that he and Harry are leant against.

“Yeah.”  Harry hiccups, biting at his lip and swiping at his tears.  “Yeah, I’m good, just got a bit overwhelmed.”  He breathes, ducking his head back into Zayn’s chest, his heart fluttering at the scent settled to his boy’s skin.  “Will you be my boyfriend, Zayn?”

Zayn’s heart hammers in his chest, his eyes wide as he watches Harry’s lower lip slow its tremor, his face gaining some colour, kicking out the ghostly tinge it had taken on as the unexpected words tumble from between his red, raw lips. 

“Yeah, Haz, course.”  Zayn smiles, lowering his lips to meet Harry’s, their lips joining and tongue tangling passionately, Harry’s hands running into Zayn’s hair, tugging on the short strands intently as his body becomes pliant under Zayn’s fingers.

Pulling away, cheeks flushed and hearts thrumming in their chests, they tug open their eyes, darkened orbs meeting in a knowing embrace as they pull each other into their arms, fingers landing on pulse points and basking in the speed and need presented by the other. 

“Love you.”  Harry grins, reaching his hand out for the abandoned mug of tea across the hallway and bringing it to Zayn’s hands.  
“Love you too.”  Zayn whispers, voice honest as he tips the mug towards Harry, allowing him to drink from it before himself. 

Harry grins up at Zayn with unshed tears in his eyes that he forces to stay in his eyes and not slither down his cheeks as he knocks back a mouthful of tea and pulling a disgusted face.

“How can you drink _that_!”  Harry whines, quickly swallowing the horrid liquid down his throat and scraping at his tongue, unsuccessfully trying to rid it of the taste killing off his taste buds.  “That’s disgusting, Zee.”

Zayn chuckles at his boyfriend, his eyes crinkling when he thinks about the new word allowed in his vocabulary.  “Just because you like milk, doesn’t mean everybody does.”

“Well they should.”  Harry argues, leaning back into Zayn’s chest, continuing to wipe at his tongue with his sleeve.  “Zee?”  
“Yeah?”  
“I’m sorry.”

Zayn frowns down at his boyfriend, his eyebrows knitted together in the centre of his forehead as he searched Harry’s eyes for some form of explanation, but comes up short.  “For what?”

“For crying this much,” He giggles, twisting in Zayn’s hold to sit in his lap, his feet wrapped around Zayn’s waist.  “I’m never normally this emotional.  Even when drunk, as you already know,” Harry blushes as Zayn smirks – he most definitely knows what Harry’s like when drunk and probably won’t be able to _ever_ forget it, not that he’d ever want to!

“Anyway, I just wanted to say sorry for, well, this,” He motions to himself and the tear-damp patch of material on Zayn’s chest over his left pectoral. “You didn’t really need to see it, so I’m sorry.”  Harry smiles nervously up at Zayn, his curls in his eyes as he does so.

Zayn sighs, his breath fanning out over Harry’s face in hot pulses, startling a whole body shiver into running through Harry’s system.  “You don’t need to apologise for being you, Hazza Bear.”  Zayn coos, running his fingers across Harry’s cheek gently.  “I wanted to be here, always want to be here, for you.”

Harry’s eyes widen in uncontainable joy at Zayn’s words, running his fingers back into Zayn’s hair and smashing his lips into Zayn’s passionately, trying to display all of the things that his words can’t to Zayn as they breath hotly into each others’ mouths, their hearts ticking time bombs in their ribcages.

As they pull away, their lips surging back for more little, chaste kisses they grin at each other, sinking into the grain of Louis’ bedroom door as they hold each other tightly, basking in one another’s presence, until a timid knock comes from behind them, making them both jump and chuckle happily at each other before turning towards the door.

“You’re not shagging on my hallway floor are you, guys?”  Louis asks, his voice quiet but still jokey in a way that only Louis can manage, but still missing something that only Harry can recognise in his voice.

Zayn laughs first, his mouth forming a wide ‘O’ before his tongue is pressing to the back of his teeth and his eyes are crinkling with masses of crows’ feet forming around his eyes as a large laugh rattles through his chest and into Harry’s hair when he ducks, trying to quieten his laughter. 

“No!”  Harry chuckles, his laughter slipping between his lips as he throws his head back, tightening his fists in the front of Zayn’s shirt as he pulls him closer, trying to hide his own laughter, much like Zayn.

“Good!”  Louis shouts back, receding from the door, his voice quieting as his feet wander over the fibres of his carpet, the springs of his bed creaking as he climbs back into it, tucking himself carefully under the covers and dropping back into his pillows.  “That’s my job, not yours!”

Zayn and Harry’s eyes widen dramatically, jumping up from the floor, matching looks of disgust painting their faces as they look towards one another.  “You didn’t!”  Harry shouts, barging through Louis’ bedroom door with Zayn trailing behind him.

Louis smirks up from underneath his covers, his face peeking out of where the duvet is pulled tight to his chin as he eyes the revolted look on both Zayn’s and Harry’s faces.  “You’re right, I didn’t.”  Louis grins, closing his eyes and rolling to lay on his side and let sleep take over once again, a happy smile on his stretched lips.

Harry sighs affectionately towards Louis, watching the smile dance on his lips and his eyes flutter closed before peeking one eye open, a glimmer of mischief in them lighting up the whole room.  “Love you, Lou.”  Harry whispers as Zayn’s fingers entangle with his own, a reassuring squeeze that makes Harry’s heart flip.  
“Love you too, Haz.  Now go, yeah, get some sleep.” 

Harry nods obediently, Louis’ nature as the eldest of them taking hold of him and making him agree instantly as Louis nuzzles up to his pillows, a dopey, sleepy expression on his face as Harry and Zayn leave the room, turning to say goodbye and wave at him before walking out of his apartment, the front door clicking softly before Louis shuts his eyes, finally happy to let sleep take control.

“Sorry, Lou,”  A small voice whispers from near Louis’ head, making Louis pull his eyes open carefully, eyes meeting the gentle gold of Zayn’s own as he bows down, setting a mug of tea onto Louis’ bedside table with a soft smile. “I forgot to bring this in earlier, Yorkshire Tea, I know you like it.”

Louis’ eyes sparkle in happiness at Zayn, reaching out his hands towards Zayn’s arm and squeezing it affectionately as he whispers a thank you around a smile.  “You and Haz are made for each other, y’know, Zee.”

Zayn nods cheekily, his eyes drifting away as he thinks of Harry, beaming at the images floating in his mind.  “Yeah.”  He whispers, stroking Louis’ hair off of his face attentively before waving a small goodbye and leaving Louis to doze off, a dreamy grin pasted on his bruised lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and I'd love to get your feedback on this story, a comment, a rec, a kudo, I don't mind but don't be silent readers please!<3
> 
> Check out my other work, if you want:)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the chapters that I have already typed up, planned and ready, so updates may become a little less regular than they have been currently - you lucky people have been getting a chapter a day, feel special;) - but I promise that I will continue to update when I can. 
> 
> Also much love to the readers that have made this story like 30 hits off of Goodbyes are too much to bare, so lets look to tomorrow, see what waits for us there! I didn't expect the feedback for that story, so this one has all-out amazed me! Also, thank you to those that have left comments and kudos, love you all<3
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and please don't be silent readers, let me know your thoughts, positive or negative:)

Walking from Louis’ flat is a short journey, consisting of small, chaste kisses to cold lips and affectionate squeezes of hands as they stumble down the pavement, voices quiet in the darkness of the night, only occasional streetlights basking them in an artificial glow.

“You think he’ll be okay, Zee?”  Harry whispers, twirling Zayn’s index finger delicately in his cool hands as they continue to walk in step with one another.

“Course he’ll be okay, Hazza.  He’s Lou, he’ll be okay soon, even you must know that.”  Zayn smiles, his eye diverted to watch the spread of a quiet smile on Harry’s chapped lips.

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry ducks his eyes down to watch their entwined hands wrap around one another, a perfect contrast between their tones.  “Just never seen him like that, y’know.”  Zayn nods thoughtfully - he’s never seen anyone’s eyes seem to fade in their sockets as Louis’ had.  “Always been happy and bouncing off of the walls, just felt a bit, well, _strange_ , to see him like that.”

They continue walking, licking at their lips to keep off the cold that threatens to peel them away from their faces as the moon shines down bright upon them.  “He’ll be okay, Haz, honestly.”

Harry looks up at Zayn then, can see the reassurance those words give to Harry, the way they light up his emerald eyes even just a little bit, but enough to loosen the painful tightness in Zayn’s chest.

“Yeah, he’s strong.”  Harry agrees, thumbing at the sleeve of Zayn’s jacket as they continue their trek through the cold air.  “Always has been.”

Zayn smiles, he can imagine the strength that Louis holds within himself, just with the way that he acted when he first met him, like a father figure in Harry’s life, checking Zayn out to look for things that may display trouble for his best friend.  Yeah, he’s all meanings of the word strong, and sometimes undoubtedly terrifying.

“Did I tell you about the time he stood up in class to declare that he was gay?”  Harry asks, a smile dancing in his words like a song. Zayn shakes his head, his ears fascinated and mind running with imaginary scenarios for as to what this story is going to be like.

“It was because people kept whispering about him behind his back and he just hated that they said stuff like he was ‘in the closet’ so he just went out and said it like it was.  That he was gay and that he wasn’t in the closet because he was proud of what he was and didn’t care what anyone else thought of him.”

The pride blossoming from Harry’s words makes Zayn’s heart swell in his chest whilst the words themselves make him laugh wildly, earning stares from the sparse number of people venturing through the darkness around them. 

“Seriously?”  Harry nods, a smile dancing in his eyes as it lights up his lips.  “Wow.”  Zayn breaths, his eyes wide in wonder; he could never have done that, admitted that he was gay.  He struggled to say it to his parents two years after he figured it out for himself at the age of 17, even thinking about announcing that to his classmates whilst in school makes his stomach flip horribly.  “Brave sod.”

Then Harry’s laughing, a bright smile wrapping around his joy as he throws his head back, his laughter bouncing off of nearby buildings as they walk, the pair of them leaning into one another.  “He is.”  Harry grins, his laughter still booming off of the buildings as they edge closer to Harry’s apartment.  “He’s brilliant, he really is.”

“He is.”  Zayn agrees, looking back on all the fear he felt during his school years, knowing things about himself that he never felt ready to verbalise, but everybody else seemed to already know, throwing names into the air like they were harmless things that wouldn’t be the cause of his tear-damp pillows each night.  “I couldn’t have done that.”

“Me either, people seemed to be a bit more respectful of me when it came out that I was gay, but I guess that’s because they knew Louis was and kind of expected it, y’know, no one with a gay best friend stays straight for long and stuff.”  Harry smiles small at his words, the wind whipping at his hair, causing tangles in it he knows he won’t be able to fix.  “He was the first one in our year to come out as gay, so I guess he was kind of a role model for people.  No one really feared the consequences of what that word meant after that.”

“So he kind of made people accept him for who he was to create a way for other people to be able to respect themselves then?”  Zayn whispers, unsure of his voice as he thinks of how much easier life would have been if there had been a Louis at his school.

“Yeah,” Harry beams, his smile brighter than the glowing moon above.  “That’s more or less what he did, he’d never admit it though.  Zayn, are you okay?”

Zayn breaths through his mouth deeply, forcing the air into his lungs as he ducks his head, scraping the tears from his eyes quickly, hating knowing that his childhood bullies words are the cause for his pain.  “Yeah, I’m go-”

Then he’s being pulled into Harry’s wide arms, his tears flowing instantly as Harry’s hands swoop around his torso, rubbing uncoordinated patterns into the back of his neck, his fingers playing with the short baby hairs at the nape of his neck as he whispers sweet nothings into Zayn’s ear, a sad smile on his own lips as Zayn’s tears sink his heart deep down into the bottom of his chest.

“I’m just being s-silly,” Zayn chuckles harshly, trying to tear himself from Harry’s arms, a fake smile tacked to his lips as his eyes meet Harry’s.  “I’m fine, honestly.” 

Harry sighs, but drops it, wiping at Zayn’s eyes and dropping a lovingly sweet kiss to his lips before pulling away and wrapping his chilly fingers with those of Zayn’s and setting them back off down the rickety pavement towards his apartment.

“You staying with me tonight?”  Harry asks, reaching the street that splits off down to Harry’s one way and Zayn’s the other, his own side looking more appealing as he tries to subtly tug Zayn that way, not wanting Zayn’s hand to uncurl from between his own fingers.

“Do you want me to?”  Zayn smiles, looking down at their entwined hands and the slight tug in Harry’s fingers, smirking when their eyes meet once again, Harry’s cheek flushing adorably under the streetlight towering high above.

“Yeah, you know I do,” Harry mumbles.  “But do you want to?”  Zayn hums under his breath, toeing the scuffed leather of his biker boots into that of Harry’s suede, his eyes shimmering.  
“Course I want to.”  Zayn laughs, his eyes sincere and happy when Harry smiles at him.

“What are we waiting for then?  Race you!”  Harry grins, a devilish smirk twinkling in his eyes and dancing on his lips as Zayn nods in agreement.  “One, two, three, GO!”

Then they’re off, their footfalls heavy on the pavement as they laugh contently, hands reaching out to pull at each other’s clothing to slow their movements, trying desperately to win the race over the pavement and up the stairs to Harry’s apartment, the harsh winds wreaking havoc as it whips at their bodies. 

“I win!”  Harry cries, fingers reaching out to touch the wood of his front door as Zayn sneaks up just moments after, his cheeks flushed red and a wide grin stretching his lips.

“No fair,” Zayn grins, taking Harry’s wrists in his hands and pushing him up against the door of his apartment, his fingers strong around Harry’s wrists and a grin etched onto his lips as he watches Harry squirm in his grip, both of their chest rising and falling as they try to take in the necessary oxygen needed.

“It is fair,” Harry seethes when Zayn’s cold fingers dance up and down his sides, cooling his skin instantly upon contact, unsuccessfully wiggling out of his grasp.  “If you didn’t puff on your cancer sticks you would have beaten me.”

Zayn smirks slowly, his eyes narrowing as he gets up in Harry’s space, his hands warming on Harry’s skin, his palms laid flat against the slats of Harry’s skin.  “Now, now, Harold,” Zayn chuckles when Harry bites at his lip, squirming away from still cool fingertips.  “Who likes the second hand smoke?”

Harry smiles innocently, biting at his bottom lip and fluttering his eyelashes up at Zayn cheekily as his cheeks tinge a rosy red when Zayn’s mouth drop to his throat, his teeth nipping along his skin teasingly.  “Wouldn’t want to stop that though would you, Hazza Bear?”

Harry shakes his head, Zayn’s teeth still biting affectionately at his skin as his hands delve deep into Harry’s pockets, pulling out his keys and slotting them in the lock as he holds Harry tightly in his arms, letting the door swing open behind him as Harry’s eyes open wide in panic, expecting the fall that Zayn prevented.

“Saved your life.”  Zayn smirks, walking around Harry, leaving him wide eyed and breathless as he watches the happy skip in Zayn’s step and the sway of his hips as he walks towards the kitchen to make them both a drink, throwing his jacket onto the sofa as he travels past it.

Harry can’t remember when he first wanted Zayn to look so comfortable in his home, so domestic, but he doesn’t regret it one bit, trailing after him with a kiss designed just for Zayn ready on his lips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and please don't be silent readers, let me know your thoughts, positive or negative:)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not overly happy with this chapter, it's a pretty poor attempt on my part, but I wanted to give you guys something as a 'thank God that the holidays are finally here' present - so here it is. I know it's like getting a pair of socks when you asked for a games console or something, but I hope that it doesn't suck too bad and that it's just that part of Christmas that you love to hate!<3
> 
> Anyway, any and all mistakes are my own and I'd love to hear any feedback, positive or negative, that you have - don't be silent readers, let me know, yeah?:)
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)

Niall wakes up late on into Monday morning, his alarm clock a distant scream in his ears as he buries himself deeper into his duvet cover before dramatically sighing and stretching in his sheets and pulling himself from his bed to get ready for the day.

Once dressed, Niall heads down the small hallway of his flat into the kitchen, grabbing a bowl and the box of half eaten cereal off of the worktop and pouring it generously into his bowl, topping it off with a splash of milk and downing it the second he sits in his chair at the kitchen table.

He stands up after glugging back orange juice from the carton with a satisfied sigh and heads back down the hallway then, stumbling into the bathroom and brushing his teeth and fixing his hair quickly before tugging on his shoes and bolting out of the front door, locking it behind himself as he wanders to work for a day of highly uninteresting small talk with snooty customers, who only care if he gives them the correct change.

“Morning, Nialler,” Ed greets with a lazy wave as Niall slips himself in through the back entrance of the staffroom, throwing his snapback onto the cluttered coffee table in the middle of the small room.

“Mornin’, Ed,” Niall smiles, snatching his name tag up off of the table and pinning it to his loose polo shirt before tucking his key to the till into his pocket.  “Good weekend?” 

Ed smiles, a cheeky brightness in his blue eyes, “Yeah, went to my cousin’s wedding and met this girl,”  Niall smiles knowingly as Ed’s hands drum on his thighs, beating out a tune, no doubt sentimental lyrics dancing across his brain that harmonise with it.  “She’s really cool, really nice, y’know?”

Niall chuckles, walking past Ed and patting him on the back happily, watching Ed’s cheeks blush deeper as his hand’s rhythm becomes more desperate against the muscle of his trouser-clad thigh.  “Yeah, I know, mate.”

Ed smiles small, nervous, as he searches Niall’s eyes for any form of teasing or sarcasm, as if hunting down a way to darken the blush painting his cheeks.  “Yeah.”  He sighs dreamily, his eyes drifting off a little before he’s chuckling and pushing at Niall’s back, the wrist bands and bracelets around his pale wrist _twanging_ under the movement.  “Anyway, to work we go.” He sings, voice soft to Niall’s ears.

Niall groans, intensifying the laughter escaping from between Ed’s lips as the tries to shuffle the pair of them out of the staff room door and out into the over air-conditioned, cold air of the supermarket behind their respective tills. “C’mon, Nialler.  We needed to get paid to be able to go out boozing.”

Niall’s ears prick up at that, a pout on his lips when he hears the smug smirk in Ed’s words as he settles himself behind his own counter, his thumbs up when Niall’s eyes flicker over to him.  “Three hours then we have our lunch break, yeah?”  Ed nods, glancing down at the small digital numbers on his watch.  “Wanna get a coffee?”

Ed snorts, his eyes soft and fond as he watches Niall slide down into his seat behind the counter, thumbing his combination into the key pad and twisting the keys from his pocket into the small lock on the drawer. 

“Do you and Liam ever leave each other alone, Ni?” Ed teases, typing in his own combination and watching the clock on the far wall tick down until the time when they can scan items through the tills for the few people scuttering around the shop.

“Yeah,”  Niall says, his attention grabbed by a coupon advertising half price cakes in store and mentally reminding himself to get one before lunch to give to Liam – he likes them better than those the coffee shop he works at makes, claims they leave him feeling less bloated or something, he wasn’t really listening.

“We’re not always together.  We just hang out a lot.  Plus you like him anyway, you love asking him to sing lines of your songs for you to test them out and ask his opinion on your melodies and stuff.”  Niall says, watching as a woman begins to empty her half full basket of food onto his conveyor belt, smiling when she glances up at him.

“Yeah, guess you’re right.”  Ed whispers, his attention drifting from Niall and into his work, smiling at his customer and making small talk as he waits for them to be able to ring up the items in his trolley.

The constant _beep_ , _beep_ , _beep_ is both comforting and annoying to Niall as he continues to scan the items passed to him off of the conveyor belt, piling them carefully into carrier bags and handing out the correct change when necessary as customers barely glance at him, muttering a quick ‘thank you’ when they come to leave.  And yeah, Niall remembers why he normally drinks coffee before he gets here.

Niall looks fleetingly up at the clock in front of him, watching the mocking hands of the clock as they travel at a mortifying speed around the circumference of the metal face plate, ticking numbers off one by one. 

Then the hands are _finally_ landing on the twelve and Greg is _finally_ by his side with a sympathetic smile as he keys himself out of the machine, watching Ed do the same with a bored look in his eyes as they trail each other into the staffroom.

“I swear that gets longer everyday that we do it.” Ed frowns, pulling his coat off of the small sofa in the room and tugging it up his arms and around his body, zipping it up whilst Niall does the same to his hoodie.

“I know what you mean,”  Niall agrees, pulling his snapback over his dark roots once again as they step out into the cool air, teeth slowly beginning to chatter as they wander down to Liam’s coffee shop.  “So this girl,” 

Ed smiles around his chattering teeth, his lips chapped but pulled up into a smile as he looks out into the distance with a happy look etched into his eyes.  “Yeah, her name’s Megan, she’s beautiful.”

“Yeah?”  Niall smiles, watching the extra pull playing with Ed’s lips as his hand begins to drum heartfelt melodies into his thighs.

“Yeah, she’s brilliant.  She’s really nice and well, genuine, y’know?  Doesn’t try to hide what she is.  She doesn’t even wear makeup and that’s just, y’know, refreshing, finding someone that doesn’t really give two shits what someone views of their appearance and doesn’t douse their face in that slap, just shows the world what she really is”

Niall nods when they edge closer to the coffee shop, his eyes sincere as he thinks of the girls that he’s been with and not remembering their actual faces, just the ones they apply each morning, because he can honestly say that they’ve never actually shown him them.

“I understand you, mate.  The slap looks funny most of the time; I mean who’s actually born with skin that looks like it was created in a plastic factory?” 

Ed chuckles at that, his head ducked to his chest as he pushes open the door to the coffee shop and walking up to the counter with a grin when Liam notices them.

“Hey guys,”  Liam grins, leaning against the counter, ready to take their orders, though he already knows them, the necessary items already standing inside their cups as he waits for the water to boil, pouring it straight into the cups and stirring it when it’s ready. 

“Long day?”  Liam asks, eyes focused on the black bags hanging under Niall’s eyes, reaching out to touch them.  
“Yeah.”  Niall frowns when Ed chuckles, collecting his cup from between Liam’s hands with a happy thank you.  
“We’ve been at work three hours, that’s not really a day, Nialler.” 

Niall shrugs his shoulders, ducking his head to rest it on the countertop, Ed and Liam laughing gleefully at him.  “It is when you barely slept last night.”  Niall snides, his words half hidden behind his arms as he speaks into them.

Liam instantly falls into father mode at that, his laughter ceasing to exist and a worried line settling between his eyes.  “Why couldn’t you sleep, Nialler?” 

Niall shrugs, his head still resting on the cool of the worktop as he searching his mind for a reason why he couldn’t sleep.  He remembers the heavy feeling in his chest and the lashings of red rimming his eyes but not that cause of them.  “Dunno, woke up in like, a fit and couldn’t really sleep after that, it was a bit stop-start, y’know.”

“Yeah,” Liam coos, his voice sympathetic as he strokes his fingers through the lengths of Niall’s hair, his fingers comforting as they scrape over Niall’s scalp.  “You dying your hair again, Nialler?”

Niall groans, raising his head from the counter and blinking quickly, adjusting his eyes to the harsh lighting inside of the coffee shop.  “Nothing like kicking a man whilst he’s down, is there, Liam?”

 Ed chuckles at Niall’s words, covering his mouth with his cup and taking quick sips to stop the loud laughter that wants to boom from inside of his chest. 

“I didn’t mean to, Nialler.”  Liam assures, his eyes regretful and sad whilst Ed watches the pair converse. “Your hair looks good either way; it’s just that you were saying on Saturday that you wanted Zayn to re-dye it.”

Niall smiles at his friend, knocking at his shoulder with his knuckles and smiling up at Liam, watching the relief flood his eyes at Niall’s kind gesture.  “Not mad at you, Li, never could be.”  And Liam practically _glows_ at that.  
“Couldn’t be mad at you either, Nialler.”

“Right well, I’m sorry to break up your romantic little gestures but we need to get back, Nialler.  Greg’s only on your till for 45 minutes before he’s back to stacking shelves again.”  Ed announces, as Niall’s face falls.  “Sorry, Li, see you!”

Niall frowns, his bottom lip protruding drastically as he takes the coffee cup handed to him by Liam, dropping the required money into his hand as he does so.  “Bye, Li.”

Liam chuckles, poking his finger out to push Niall’s lips up into a smile, his eyes crinkling endearingly when Niall snaps at his fingers with his teeth.  “Get off with ya, Ni.”  Liam chuckles, tapping at Niall’s nose with the tip of his fingertip.  “Back to work, child, back to work!”

Niall throws his head back at that, his eyes scrunched shut and his mouth open wide, his lips stretching across the lower expanse of his mouth as a brilliant laugh that paints a smile onto Liam’s own lips floods the coffee shop, attracting the attention of all of the customers and a pair of equally wrinkly smiles from the elderly couple by the window.

“On my way,” Niall grins, flashing Liam a wide, metal smile and an energetic wave as he wanders out of the coffee shop, the customer’s eyes on him and Ed’s receding forms as they exit the building, their drinks hot in their hands as the winds batter them the moment they open the door. 

“Bye, Li!”  Niall shouts, Liam’s cheeks flushing as the eyes fall onto him, waving a smirking pair of friends away as he sets to work scrubbing down the countertop, eyes ducking from the curious ones around him but flickering up to watch the pair animatedly chatter as they set off down the road back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and I'd love to hear any feedback, positive or negative, that you have - don't be silent readers, let me know, yeah?:)
> 
> Also, feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed your socks yesterday because this is the pair of frilly underwear to match;)
> 
> Anyway, any and all mistakes are my own and please feel free to leave any comments, positive or negative, I love hearing from you guys and trying to develop my work into stuff that you'll enjoy:)
> 
> Also, check out my other work, if you'd like to<3

Alex sneaks out of the staff room soon after Niall and Ed leave, a light, joyous ringing left behind by Niall’s laughter floating in the air, the scent of smoke clinging to his being in such a way that Liam physically envies it. 

“Hey, Li,” Alex grins before stepping up to take Liam’s place at the till, waiting for a new customer to steal his attention and put him to work.  “You okay?  Look a bit glum,” He reaches out a long, nimble finger to poke at Liam’s cheeks, his touch making Liam’s ears burn and an involuntary smile dance across his lips.  “There we go! Always smile yeah, Li?”

Liam nods, breathless, whilst Alex leans back against the counter, eyes surveying the coffee shop before reaching out his fingers and brushing them against the length of Liam’s forearm, his fingertips trailing over the button-up laced over Liam’s arms.

“This morning was good,” Liam smiles up into Alex’s eyes, seeing the honesty in both his words and his eyes, causing his heart to hammer frantically in his chest, threatening to jump from his own into Alex’s and curl up against his heart.

“Yeah?”  Liam says, words hopeful as they slip past his lips, making Alex chuckle endearingly at him, his fingers pressing down more significantly on Liam’s arm, the touch still gentle, yet no longer ghosting across the planes of the fabric on Liam’s arms.

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, his fingertips coming to a stop on Liam’s wrist, his fingers fluttering over the words inked there contemplatively with a small smile ghosting over his pink lips, his tongue poking out to dampen them.  “We’ll have to do it again sometime, yeah?”

Liam’s eyes widen happily, because yeah, he’d _totally_ be up for that, can’t even form words other than _yes_ , _yes_ , _yes_ at the moment. 

“Yeah,” Liam sighs dreamily, eyes sinking down to watch Alex’s fingers play with the cuff of his shirt as he leans back against the counter, his legs impossibly long as he crosses them casually at the ankle.

“Bit strange that we work in a coffee shop and don’t drink any here, but enjoy it elsewhere, isn’t it?”  Alex chuckles, his face stretching into a childish grin as his fingers stop their toying with Liam’s heartstrings. 

Liam chuckles along, his eyes clamping shut in delight as he hears Alex’s jingling laugh ring in his ears, can picture the way he clenches his fists when he does so, as if they’ll let out bursts of laughter if he doesn’t.  “Bit strange.”

“Good strange though, we’re good strange.”  Alex smiles, turning back to face the shop floor once again, his eyes focusing on the suited man walking towards him and greeting his suited form with a happy smile and an almost sing-song of ‘good morning’ before fixing up his order and waving him off with an equally cheerful ‘goodbye, have a good day’. 

“We?”  Liam asks, voice timid and careful as he tries to formulate his words properly, his ears adamant that they heard the word _we_ , not me, you, he, she, it or they.

Alex chuckles, his eyes fleeting from Liam’s eyes to the floor and back again as he scratches at the back of his neck.  “Yeah, we.”  Alex whispers and fireworks may or may not have been set off inside of Liam’s mind, heart and soul at the untamed honesty lacing Alex’s words.

Liam grins wide, his face stretching to accommodate the happiness drifting through his bones, dancing through his veins and thrumming in his heart as he whispers a small ‘yeah’ and turns to wash up the cutlery and utensils that they’ve so far managed to use this morning.

Elbow-deep in hot, soapy water, Liam is able to finally smile to himself without any need to hide the pure _bliss_ on his face and in his entire being as his mind replays the way Alex’s lips and tongue curled around the word we, the way his eyes shone as he said it and his cheeks tinted a light rosy pink when Liam caught his eye. 

And yeah, Liam might be a little bit in love, but really, only time will tell...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just a bit of a fan of Liam's tattoo...
> 
> Anyway, any and all mistakes are my own and please let me know your thoughts, positive or negative, on this story - don't be silent readers, let me know, yeah?<3
> 
> Also, check out my other work, if you'd like to:)


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's your thermal vest;)

Niall slumps in his seat, his eyes flickering between the taunting hands of the clock and the masses of nameless, faceless customers as he serves them, packing their goods, handing them their change and waving them off politely.

The shift seems to take longer than usual, Niall’s neck cramping as he slinks in his seat to reach down for more carrier bags, setting them in the loading area with a mumbled _anytime_ to the thankful customer who requested them.

His eyes focus in and out on the numbers pixelated on the touch screen in front of him, the customer’s spending total displayed in large numbers surrounded by methods of payment as he looks up into their eyes, voicing their necessary payment with a croak in his voice.

“Rough day?” The man asks, pulling out his credit card and gesturing with it as he slots it inside the card reader, waiting for Niall to type in the number that the shop uses before he can do the same with his PIN.

“Yeah,” Niall huffs, crossing his feet at the ankles and toying with his name tag, lining it up straight against the material of his polo as he waits for the transaction to go through.  “Been really long, mate.”

The man chuckles as he taps the OK button on the device, causing the verification to flash up on Niall’s screen before vanishing instantly as the payment is taken from the plastic. 

“Know what you mean,” He smiles, his teeth long and white, almost ferocious as his lips curl up into a smile, baring them, his voice gruff and hoarse as he leans against the counter, his near-black eyes boring into Niall’s own.  “It’s like being hung over, isn’t it?”

Niall nods as the man goes to pick up his groceries, his eyes small and beady in his head and his jaw scattered by dark, coarse hair that is slightly too long to be classed as either stubble or classy.  “Yeah,”

The man grins, his teeth like those of a vampire’s as he pulls his face into a smile, his hair dark and matted, hiding his eyes before he’s turning away from Niall and making his way out of the supermarket, bags in hands.

“He seemed a bit weird,” Ed remarks, coming up behind Niall and slotting the ‘Till out of use’ sign at the end of his conveyor belt, much to the distaste of the many customers heading towards it to queue up and be served.

Niall just hums along, rubbing at his face before quickly tapping at his screen and locking up his till, eventually leaning back in his seat, feeling relief flood his soul as he leans his head onto Ed’s forearms, looking up at him, blowing at Ed’s scruffy ginger hair happily where it falls down towards Niall’s face.

“Ready to go?”  Ed grins, poking at Niall’s nose, causing it to scrunch up under his finger.  Niall nods quickly, standing up and trailing after Ed into the staffroom to grab their stuff and exit the supermarket, until tomorrow.

Once outside, the air cool and the sky dark above them, they head off together down the street, their hands hidden deep inside of their pockets in a futile attempt to keep the cold from nibbling at their fingertips. 

“A month and a half to go.”  Ed smiles, his breath blowing out in large puffs of air in front of himself as he tries to avoid the cracks in the pavement, his feet stepping on random ones and being presented with a muttered curse into the cold air.

“Until what?”  Niall asks, his face scrunched up in confusion as he tries to think of what Ed’s counting down to, but coming up short when his brain decides to give up on him.

Ed bumps his shoulder against Niall’s, a joyous laugh on his lips as they continue to walk, their forms bouncing off of one another as they stumble down the pavement back towards their respective homes.  “Christmas.”

“Oh, yeah,” Niall’s mouth falls open in a wide ‘o’ of realisation whilst Ed tugs off Niall’s snapback adn drags a hand through Niall’s hair, messing it up quickly causing Niall to try to fight him off before replacing Niall’s hat on his now ruined hair.  “Forgot about that.” 

Ed chuckles endearingly as they continue their trek home, the streetlights like checkpoints above them as they continue their walk.  “Oh, I don’t think you’ll be forgetting about it for long.”  Niall frowns, confused.  “Nick’s planning a party to celebrate for Christmas, early December I think he said, I’ll have to ask him to make sure though.”

“Sounds cool.”  Niall grins, knowing that Ed will understand his excitement for a party without properly voicing it.  “You’re going, yeah?”  Ed nods, his eyes set forwards, almost conflicting with his shoulders as they turn towards Niall, his stance becoming hard and nervous as they continue to glide down the rickety pavement.

“Nialler,” Niall turns to face Ed at the mention of his name as they continue to walk, their pace never slowing, regardless of the obvious want to in Ed’s eyes.  “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

That takes Niall by surprise; his mind racing as he tries to think of the true, heartfelt answer that he has for that question.  Thinks off the people that he’s felt that he loved, that he cared for in a way that hasn’t been completely platonic, and comes up with no one that he can say that he’s actually _loved_ at first sight.  He’s been attracted at first sight, many a time, but that doesn’t strike Niall as the sort of feeling that Ed’s asking about.

“I guess so, mate,” Niall smiles small.  “I’ve never experienced it, but I do believe in it.  That you’ll kind of just see someone and then that’ll be all that you’ll ever want or need.”  Ed smiles at that, his shoulders loosening and his posture becoming more _Ed_ as they edge closer to his apartment.  “Why?”

Ed turns shy then, his cheeks flushing and his eyes dancing upon anything that isn’t Niall’s own as he buries his hands deeper into the thick material of his coat and ducks his head to his chest, his breaths coming out hot against his coat-clad chest.

“You don’t have to tell me, y’know, Ed.   I was just asking because that’s like, the thing everybody says, I didn’t want to intrude or anything, just wanted to follow tradition and shit.” Ed laughs at that, his chin raising as he turns to face Niall, eyes squinting happily as his laugher bubbles from his lips.

“Don’t worry about it, mate,” Ed assures, his eyes flickering up to look at his building just a few hundred metres away from where they are and coming closer and closer with each footfall.  “Was just asking, trying to figure a few things out, y’know?  I’ll maybe tell you when I’ve sorted it all out, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Niall agrees, looking up towards Ed’s building, seeing the flicker of pictures off of TV screens dance along the bare window panes of apartments and along the curtains and blinds occasionally hung in windows.  “Night, Edward.”

Ed chuckles, pushing at Niall playfully as he wishes Niall a good night also before he continues his walk towards his building, crossing the street and turning back towards Niall as he opens the door to the building, waving at Niall before slipping inside and climbing up the stairs to his apartment, leaving Niall to walk home alone, the only comfort his ghosting breaths as they dance through the air in front of him as he follows the long, winding pavements back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this story - whether you're enjoying it or not at why:) 
> 
> Don't be silent readers, let me know<3
> 
> Also, check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's your Harry Styles-esque skinny jeans!;)

Harry wakes up that morning with Zayn’s arm strong around his waist and his breath hot as it blasts down the back of his neck, sending chills up and down his spine.

“Zee,” Harry whispers, voice riddled with sleep as he rubs at his eyes, the sun, thankfully, hidden behind the thick curtains his mother strung across the window opposite the bed when he moved in.  “Wake up, yeah?”

“’M up,” Zayn breaths, hair flopping flat against his head in a way that makes Harry’s heart hammer in his chest; seeing the natural side of Zayn and not the one that he fixes every morning.

Harry chuckles light and endearingly as Zayn nuzzles deeper into the pillows around him, his toes running up the lengths of Harry’s shins whilst he tightens his grasp around Harry’s waist, forbidding his planned escape.  “C’mon, let me go, Zee.”

“Never gonna let you go,”  He mumbles, his eyes peeking open momentarily, the orbs clouded in sleep as they flicker over Harry’s own.  His breath still hot as it travels over Harry’s skin, dousing it in a hair raising heat that forces his heartbeat into a frenzy.

“Let me go for a minute, yeah?”  Zayn shakes his head, face scrunching up into his pillow as he clenches his eyes shut, his feet slotting into the backs of Harry’s knees in an effort to keep both himself warm and gain leverage in the situation.

“Why not?”  Harry questions, flopping back under the covers away from Zayn in a huff, watching the rise and fall of Zayn’s chest and feeling the rhythmic exhales and inhales dance across his skin.

“Y’re warm,” Zayn nuzzles his head off of the pillow along the bottom sheet of the bed, trying to reach Harry and breathing on his knuckles when he comes in contact with them. 

“Yer soft,” He lays his head on Harry’s arm then, his stubble scraping at Harry’s forearm as he moves into a comfortable position. 

“Y’ smell good,” Harry burst out laughing at that, pushing Zayn half-heartedly away before he’s crawling back up and nuzzling at his flesh.  “And you’re you.”  
Yeah, and you’re you.” Harry says, confused at what Zayn’s actually getting at.

Zayn frowns then, his forehead crinkling against Harry’s forearm, his eyebrows tickling Harry’s skin unintentionally whilst his eyes flicker open, a magnificent amber shining deep in his eyes as they focus on Harry’s own.

“You’re my one and only though, so why would I want to intentionally let you go?” Harry’s breath catches in his throat as Zayn pokes his nose along his arm, nosing at the flesh before kissing at the skin, a smile rooted on his lips.

It’s not the first time that Zayn’s been poetic about their relationship and defined the love that he has for Harry, though it’s the first time he’s done it to such a state of _finality_.  As if there are no what ifs, that what he has now is all he ever sees himself needing, wanting. 

And that makes Harry’s chest tighten in such way that Zayn’s kisses and whispered _I love you’s_ never quite will; because they’re just generic things, things that every person in a relationship will either hear or say.  Whilst the heart wrenching honesty dousing Zayn’s sleepy words are individual, as if they’ve never fallen from his, or another’s, lips before they entered Harry’s ears.

And that makes Harry’s heart throb in pure admiration in his chest, his lips stretch into the widest, most jaw-breaking smile and his mind race with all of the images of Zayn; the way he smiles at the smallest of things, the quirk of his lips when he’s being cheeky, the contented look etched into his eyes after they fall into their sheets late at night and the nervous crease he had in his forehead when he had first met Louis.

“I love you, Zayn Jawaad Malik,” Harry surges down, his lips crashing into Zayn’s as they kiss almost hungrily, clinging to each other with white knuckles and desperate grasps as they breathe each other’s air. 

Their lips soon part to allow their tongues to tangle, fighting for a dominance that Zayn’s quick to lose, Harry’s tongue licking over the roof of his mouth, making his spine tingle and his body gyrate under the sensation. 

“Love you too,” Zayn breaths, breaking off the kiss to mouth at Harry’s throat, leaving a sufficient bruise along the column that causes Harry’s mouth to fall open and reveal the most satisfying of moans into the air, his hands soon coming to sit on Zayn’s waist, his hands tight around his narrow waist as Zayn’s lips travel back up to his own, kissing intently.

Pulling away, their eyes connect, both shining bright and happy under the attention of the other before Harry’s dropping a chaste kiss to Zayn’s nose and nosing down to rest his head on Zayn’s chest, breathing heavily onto his skin as his fingers draw patterns in the dips of his collar bones.

Zayn grins wide down at Harry, moving his hands to sit on the base of Harry’s spine and pull him up to lay completely over his torso, dragging the duvet up around them to block out the cold air that threatens to cool their passion-heated skin.

“What you looking at?” Harry blushes, hiding behind his hair as his dimples sink into his skin, not quite masking the nervous smile on his lips as he ducks his head to rest on Zayn’s chest.

“You,” Zayn smiles when the blush on Harry’s pale skin darkens somewhat, his dimples also digging deeper into his flesh as he reaches up to brush his hair in front of his eyes, away from Zayn’s prying eyes.

Zayn chuckles, reaching out to grasp Harry’s wrists, his hands wrapping easily around them, as he blows at the curly fringe of Harry’s hair, removing it from Harry’s eyes, allowing himself the pleasure of seeing the early morning gleam dancing in the brilliant emerald orbs. 

“Don’t hide your pretty face, Hazza Bear.” Zayn chastises, feeling the race of Harry’s pulse under his hands, smiling as it picks up at the mention of his nickname.  “Wanna see it.”

Harry’s cheeks quickly flush, but he’s unable to hide them as Zayn positions Harry’s hands under his chin, holding it up like it’s on a pedestal to promote its beauty.  “So pretty, Hazza Bear.”

Zayn weakens his grasp on Harry’s wrists then, lets him free, only for Harry’s eyes to stay focused on him, them searching his eyes as they shine in happiness.  “You’re the pretty one, Zee.”

Then it’s time for Zayn’s cheeks to flush, ducking his eyes from Harry’s quickly as he bites at his lip to hide the smile that Harry’s placed on his lips at his compliment.  “No, I’m not, Hazza.”

Harry frowns, removing his hands from under his chin to stroke over the knife-edge of Zayn’s cheek bones, his eyes honest as he looks deep into Zayn’s soul.  “Yes, you are, Zayn; so beautiful, honestly, so pretty.”

Zayn shakes his head, feels hot tears come to his eyes as Harry moves to kiss at his lips, Harry’s heart throbbing in his chest uncomfortably at the shake of Zayn’s bottom lip under his own.  “You are.”  Harry whispers, his words hitting Zayn’s lips as he speaks, trying to get Zayn to acknowledge the pure, uncensored _truth_ in his words.

“Honestly, Zayn, would I lie to you?”  Zayn shakes his head sadly, knowing that Harry wouldn’t lie to him, ever.  “Right, so believe me then, yeah?  Believe me when I say that you’re pretty, beautiful or handsome, because you are.” 

Harry reaches out to wipe the tears away from Zayn’s eyes, a smile stretching on his lips when Zayn doesn’t fight it or his words. “You’re my handsome, beautiful, stunningly pretty boyfriend.”  Harry smirks, eyes cheeky yet honest as he pokes at Zayn’s nose.

Zayn laughs at that, his chuckles wet yet happy as he pulls Harry closer to his chest, drawing patterns on the expanse of his back and tracing over the muscles there.  “That’s really what you are to me, if we’re being honest.”

Harry leans up, presses his lips to Zayn to shut up the list of excuses he knows are going to fall from his boyfriend’s lips.  “Nah,” Harry smiles, pulling away to look Zayn deep in the eye with a cheeky grin on his lips.  “I’m you’re curly haired boyfriend.”

“My curly haired, handsome, beautiful, stunningly pretty boyfriend, actually.” Zayn corrects with a smirk, and Harry’s missed that cheeky twitch of his lips, he really has.

“Nice ring to it.”  Harry smile before ducking down to lay his head on Zayn’s chest, shutting his eyes as he waits for the incessant ring of the alarm clock to actually wake them up, to force them from each other and into the big, bad world where everything’s wrong and nothing’s good.

“Yeah,” Zayn smiles, his hands coming up to run through Harry’s curls as he lays back on his pillow, begging sleep to take him away so he doesn’t confront his demons again this morning, whilst Harry’s lips allow gentle snores to scatter over his chest, reminding him of the good that came from the bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so I'm quite literally posting each chapter straight after I've written it and I just wanted to know if it seems like 'bitty' to read? Like that it doesn't flow, if you know what I mean? I was just asking because I can't really read this story as a reader like you guys can. It's like when you read through someone else's work at school and see tonnes of mistakes but can't see any when you read through your own. Anyway, let me know, please?
> 
> Also, any and all mistakes are of course my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, let me know, please! Don't be silent readers!<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work:)
> 
> Merry Christmas Eve-Eve! <3


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is your stocking filler - it's nearly Christmas!! Hope you all have a good one and a brilliant new year!<3
> 
> I might not be able to update this story tomorrow, what with all the Christmas shenanigans and what not, but I will try:)

Louis’ eyes flutter open as the first light of the morning drifts in through the thin curtains hung across his bedroom window.

His body hurts as he just lays there, his head smushed into his pillow, hair matted around his head and his entire being wrapped up tight in his sheets as his tongue pokes out to lick at the indentations dug deep and painful in his lips, soothing their dull throb.

The sun continues to rise in the sky, it’s movements contorting and twisting the shadows it leaves behind on Louis’ face before he slowly twists himself under his duvet, his body crying out in dissatisfaction as he moves.

Once his feet trickle out from under his sheets, his toes poking at the carpet under them, his body falls after them, landing him in a pile on the floor, his arms twisted to create a pillow for his free flowing tears to congregate.

Hiccups of breath leave Louis’ cracked lips, his tears dribbling down his face and creating scorching lines against the coolness of his skin as he tries to hoist himself into a sitting position, using the bedside table to help himself up.

As his legs fold up under himself, his crumpled duvet hanging haphazardly off of the bed and pooled around his ankles, warming his feet, he looks up towards the mirror on his dressing table on the far side of the room; watching the way he’s buried by his clothes, his cheekbones poking deadly out of his ghost-white flesh and his eyes lined by a flaming red.

He chokes on a sob of horror as he just _sees_ himself, what he is now, what’s been stolen to make him look like he does; to make him look just as broken as he feels.

His eyes continue to be flooded by tears as he lies down on his side, his tears falling to the floor in hot and heavy cascades, as his fingers pluck at the carpet fibres, frustrated.  Feels the hot slide of the tears as they wash over his face before plummeting to the floor and being quickly absorbed by the carpet, wishing that the carpet would be able to absorb not only tears but the pain and the hatred he not only feels for himself but the man who did _this_ to him.

Louis slams his fists into the floor quickly, scrunching up his face at the pain moving his muscles causes, gritting his teeth to hold in a violent groan.  He stays like that for a while, wriggling in a helpless state of anger, his tears slowing before drying up completely as he drags himself to his wardrobe, tugging out clothes that aren’t his pyjamas and pulling them onto his body carefully, gasping in agony when he bends his legs to pull up his jogging bottoms.

Finally, crawling over to his chest of drawers and pulling out a pair of socks to slide onto his feet, warming up his toes, followed by a pair of scuffed up Van’s before he’s breathing in deep and willing himself to get a hold on himself, that he can do this.

Then he’s pulling himself up using the handles on his chest of drawers, his teeth gritted as he hoists himself up, the muscles in his arms and legs throbbing under the strain before he drops himself into his dressing table chair, his eyes finally meeting his new self.

Seeing the matting of his eyelashes around his dull and empty eyes, lined by lashing of harsh, angry red and heavy black bags.  His eyes flowing down his face to see the most definite protrusion of his cheek bones in his face, his once attractive face dishevelled into that of a poor, homeless man on the brink of death by starvation.

His stomach rumbles then, reminding him of the fact he hasn’t eaten since Saturday, hasn’t been able to even picture food without feeling physically sick to his stomach.  His face pales at the thought of food even now, but the rumble and the twang of pain that comes from his stomach leaves him reeling, knowing he needs to eat.

Louis runs a quick hand through his hair, feeling the grease of it between his fingers and the knots that trap them from descending down the strands, frowning at the poor state of his hair before pushing the thought from his mind as another rumble echoes through his stomach walls and into his bedroom.

His feet are heavy as he tries to walk down the narrow hallway to the kitchen, his muscles aching under the movements but making a valiant attempt to stop his stomach from screaming out in desperation as his nails scratch into the paint along the hallway, helping keep him on his feet.

Louis moves equally as slowly when his feet hit the tiles of the kitchen, his balance more steady as he comes to live with the ache in his bones and places he doesn’t want to even think of right now.

Slotting a slice of bread in the toaster and flicking on a switch to the kettle he sighs, leaning his body heavily against the countertop, feeling the stickiness of the food he dropped on it on Saturday night before leaving his apartment and never got round to properly cleaning from the surface, on his hand.

Louis closes his eyes slowly, the sun still managing to break through the guard of his eyelids as he leans back, feels the heat of the sun on his face, warming his skin as he relaxes his aching form against the countertop.

The click of the kettle and pop of the toaster pull him from his relaxed state, the toast’s scent wafting up his nose and making his stomach rumble harder but his face whiten before he’s leant over the sink, retching into it sadly.

The force of his empty stomach too much for him as he sinks to the floor, his head in his hands as he leans back, his knees brought up to his chest as he hugs them tight, letting out all the pain and sickness he feels, his voice becoming coarse and croaky with every sob whilst he cries to himself, alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys have a great Christmas and a brilliant new year! Not long to go, just a little bit excited - it doesn't matter how old you are, you can guarantee that you'll be the one to wake everybody up on Christmas morning, or maybe that's just me?;)
> 
> Anyway, any and all mistakes are my own and feel free to leave any comments that you have:)
> 
> Check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas guys! Hope you have a great day, here's your selection box - hope you enjoy it!;)  
> Anyway, chapter 25 on the 25th December, how strange, I didn't even plan it to fall like that either!<3

Once Niall’s home he soon runs out of things to do, having done the majority of his household jobs earlier and only having the dishes that he uses to prepare his tea to wash up after himself.

Niall cooks himself a small dish of macaroni and cheese and carries it over to his sofa in the living area, tucking up to eat it in comfort with the TV on and a can of beer in his hand. 

He smiles when the food hits his tongue, reminding him of home and how he’s supposed to be going back for Christmas, if he can organise time off of work, internally reminding himself to book it off tomorrow before anyone else gets the same idea and books it.

Gulping back his food with his beer, he leans back deeper into the cushions, letting them devour him, much like he had his macaroni and cheese as his full attention lands on the TV, a random programme flickering over the pixels and lighting up the whole of Niall’s living area with its vivid colours.

Niall pulls his feet up under himself and yanks the chequered blanket his mother gave him as a moving away present off of the back of the sofa to tug it over his body, the air chilly regardless of the radiator in the room.  He’s asked the caretaker of the building if he can take a look at it, but all he did was put him on a waiting list up until February, no doubt when England will decide to play ball and become habitably warm again, just to spite him.

The pictures on the screen soon fade into one, the colours mashing together into one large, bright light a little way away from Niall’s eyes as his eyelids start to become heavy, sagging over his eyes as sleep calls his name, rewarding him for his long day at work.

Until the news comes on and Niall’s eye’s intentions to sleep are lost and they’re fixed on the screen, watching the news bulletin scroll over the screen as the news reader speaks atop of it. 

He yawns, mouth wide as she talks, her stories on politics and the state of the country doing very, very little to hold his interest, until the word ‘rape’ is mentioned.  At that, his eyes bulge from his head, daring his eyelids to close and prevent them from watching this, his hand twitching on the remote to turn up the volume. 

It’s been on his mind since Sunday when he and Liam half saw the story about a person being raped.  They heard nothing more than that though, as the program had ended and Liam had turned to the disappointing football game that had left them depressed and questioning how the players had ever become professionals.

His ears prick up, listening intently as his eyes scan the rolling details at the bottom of the screen whilst his ears take in the verbal information the news reader is giving. 

He hears that it was a young man who had been raped on Saturday, not that far from the area that he and the boys had been drinking in on Saturday night, and that the police are looking for anyone who may have been a witness to it, or may hold vital information for their investigation.

He sighs when he receives no more information than that, his mind racing with questions and thoughts on why someone would do that, rape someone like they had no reason to be respected.  Like Liam had said the other day, rape is like taking a person’s life, but without their soul being stolen from their body, as it’s left there, despite the fact that they’re dead inside.

Niall frowns, his heart heavy in his chest at how someone could do that knowingly, and yeah, they might have been drunk and maybe they don’t even remember doing it now, but how could they do it, intoxicated or not.

The credits roll as his mind reels with the thoughts of the sick people who have damaged lives due to their personal desperation and he feels sick to his stomach at the thought, reaching over to flick the TV off and throw the blanket back over the sofa before marching into his bedroom and falling into a deep sleep with a sickness, heavy like lead in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, let me know, please! Don't be silent readers!<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all had a good Christmas yesterday guys and enjoyed your selection box;)  
> Anyway, here's the left over turkey from yesterday, enjoy;)

 Zayn grins as Harry kisses him goodbye on the street corner where they part to go their separate ways to their respective work places. 

“Love you,” He whispers against Harry’s lips, licking at the seam cheekily before pulling away and dropping a chaste kiss to Harry’s cheek before Eskimo kissing him.

“Love you too,” Harry smiles, breath hot against Zayn’s face as he clutches Zayn’s hand, before he squeezes it a final time and is pulling away from Zayn, a sad look in his eyes when they part.  “Have a good day, Zee.”

“You too, Hazza Bear,” Harry physically brightens at that, his tongue coming out to lick at his chapped lips, to mask his smile before he’s tiptoeing away, his eyes still trained on Zayn as he wanders backwards down the street before tumbling into another pedestrian, apologising profusely whilst Zayn chuckles loud and wide.

Harry frowns towards Zayn once the man he walked into leaves, sticking his tongue out at Zayn before he’s waving and walking away, tugging his coat closer to his body as he wanders the streets to the bakery in which he works, whilst Zayn starts his trek to his own workplace.

Whilst he walks he battles against the cold chill that is itching to get below his clothes, his white button up doing little to mask his skin from the air and his black trousers too lightweight to properly stop the crawl of the wind on his thighs. 

His body only really protected by the coat that Harry forced up his arms to sit over his shoulders, a mothering frown on his lips when he saw that Zayn intended to leave in just the clothes he leaves at Harry’s for the times when he stays over and has work the next day; which let’s face it, is more or less every day, give or take.

Zayn’s phone buzzes in his pocket, the vibrations tickling against his thigh before he pulls it out, flicking his finger across the screen and smiling at the wide, outstretched grin of Harry that his screensaver presents to him; Harry’s eyes screwed up whilst he smiles a smile that would be too big for any face but his own.

‘You’re such a poo x’ He reads, his lips contorting into a grin as he flicks his head round to watch the pavement where Harry headed, hunting down the boy that sent him the message and shaking his head in endearment at the boy he gets to call his own when his eyes fail in their search.

He types back a cheeky winky face in response, knowing that Harry will smile as wide as the one immortalised on his screensaver when he reads it and wanting to know that he put that piece of beauty there.

He noses deeper in the black coat that’s just a little too wide in the shoulders and too long in the arms, trying to bury himself in the scent and warmth of the fabric as the sun reveals itself from behind the clouds, its light cool on his skin due to the continual whipping the wind gives to his frame.

He grins when he smells Harry on the fibres, nuzzling into the coat and pulling up the lapels to shield his face and provide him a stronger scent that sets his heartbeat racing. 

‘Your coat smells like you<3 I like it ;)’ Zayn thumbs into his phone, shooting it off to Harry, awaiting the tug of Harry’s smile in his chest when he reads it.

‘You’re such a dork x’ He gets in response, a chuckle slipping past his lips that he tries to hide by biting his lip, canine sinking into the red flesh as his eyes shine, his day perfect regardless of how it goes, knowing that he made Harry smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, let me know please. Don't be silent readers!<3
> 
> Also feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sorry excuse for an update, I'll apologize now.

For Liam the week comes to an end rather fast; in a whirl of dark hair, sky blue eyes and rosy cheeks and then it’s finally the weekend, work finished for two days because Alex is training the new guy that is set to work the evening shift on a Wednesday.

‘Miss you x’ Alex texts as Liam rolls over in his bed, eyes out of focus until Alex’s name makes him hold back the hitch in his breath and easy smile that dances on his lips.

‘Get back to work, mister!’ He types back, pulling the duvet over his head to hide his wide grin.  ‘Miss you to x’ 

He lays his phone onto his bedside table, willing his smile to shrink as his cheeks tingle under their stretching as he tucks his toes under the end of his duvet, wrapping them up in it as he waits for his bedside clock to display ten o’clock, viewing that as a decent lie-in before he can head over to Niall’s.

The hands on the clock seem to get caught on each number that they pass, making Liam groan as he watches their slow circuit around the faceplate, almost tempting him to toy with them and change their route, to speed up time. 

By quarter past nine he’s dragging himself out of bed frustrated, showering and dressing himself quickly before grabbing that cream cake that Alex had handed to him yesterday just before they went their separate ways once out of the coffee shop.

“As a way for you to remember me tomorrow, when you abandon me on _our_ shift.” Alex had chuckled, his eyes sincere and cheeks blissfully pink as Liam grinned at him as if he had hung the stars in the sky; and really he hung all the stars in Liam’s sky.

‘<3 x’ is all Liam gets back as he slips his phone into his jean pocket with a smile before running off to Niall’s apartment, ready to drag him from his home due to the fact he hasn’t seen him since Monday when he and Ed had come in on their lunch break and he may or may not be feeling a bit deprived of his Irish friend’s company.

When Liam knocks on the door he comes to face to face with Niall, his eyes wide as he notices Liam in his doorway, knuckle poised to rap on the wood.

“Hey, Li! What you doing, thought you were working today?” Niall smiles, shutting the door behind himself to stand in the hallway with Liam as he slots his key in the lock, twisting it easily and resuming to allow all his attention to fall onto Liam.

“Nah, Alex’s training a new employee so the boss said that there’d be no point in me being there.  Got the whole weekend off.” Liam smiles when Niall smirks at him, his eyes almost knocking back a beer before he’s even asked if Liam wants to go for a drink.

“All weekend, huh?” Liam nods knowingly as he and Niall begin to descend the stairs, shoes clacking on the steps as they reach the ground floor, the air outside warm around them as they begin to walk along the rickety pavement.  “Well then, Mister Payne, how about we go out for a drink?”

Liam chuckles as he nods, having already answered that question even before it had slipped from Niall’s lips.  “Course, let’s ask Harry and Zayn, see if we can’t make it a proper good lads night?”

Niall’s arm slips around Liam’s shoulders, pulling him into his side as they walk down the pavement, their attention on only the uneven blocks that make up the pavement, lifting their feet higher for some than others, trying to defy the walkway’s intent to trip them.

“Knew that one day I would break you, Li.” Niall grins, looking out into the distance, eyes shining in the ounce of sun that is able to penetrate through the wintery clouds above.  “Just had to wait and see it happen.”

Liam just shakes his head endearingly, pushing Niall away from himself with a laugh as Niall stumbles on the uneven paving stones, cursing as his balance is lost yet relief flooding his eyes when his body doesn’t come in contact with the sharp edges of the stones.

“You’re such a pain, Payne!”  Niall shouts, chasing after a giggling Liam and jumping up onto his shoulders, splaying himself across Liam’s back as he wraps his arms around his shoulders to keep himself up as Liam continues to walk to Harry’s apartment, just knowing that Zayn will be there as well.  When isn’t he there, really? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, let me know:) Don't be silent readers!<3


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting far too good at filling this story with filler chapters, I'm sorry!

As Liam rounds the corner onto Harry’s street, Niall clutching onto his shirt trying to hold on as Liam’s footfalls quicken up, choosing to run the last few metres to Harry’s building, Niall cackling in his ear as his fists tighten on the collar of Liam’s shirt.

“This is why we’re friends!” Niall chuckles, loosening his grip on Liam’s t-shirt when he comes to a stop, Liam pausing to pull the large metal handle on the building’s front door to open it.

“Really?  That’s the only reason, Nialler?” Liam says, disbelieving, the hot air from the building rushing into their faces as Liam walks them inside, closing the door shut carefully behind them.

“Course not, Li.  There’s many more reasons than that.” Niall smiles, smushing his face into the side of Liam’s and nuzzling up to him, making Liam grin before his hands grip Niall’s thighs and he’s off.

Niall is a comfortable weight on his back as he thunders up the flights of stairs, passing closed doors as they go and bolting down corridors until they reach the required level, Niall’s knuckles white as they grip onto Liam’s shirt and his thighs tight around Liam’s hips.

“Is that another reason?” Liam teases, feeling Niall’s racing heartbeat against his back before he lowers him towards the floor, Niall’s feet not quite holding his weight as he wobbles on the spot, cheeks flushed and a wide grin plastered to his lips.

“Yeah,” Niall chuckles, running his hand through his hair as he exhales.  “Let’s go with that.”  Liam laughs, watching how his friend tries to recover but loving every second of what just occurred, his childish grin tattooed to his lips and a wicked gleam dancing in his baby-blue eyes.

They set off in silence, down the corridor until they reach Harry’s door, Liam reaching out to knock on the hard wood whilst Niall leans against the frame, his hands in his pockets as he waits.

“Don’t think he’s home.” Liam frowns as they wait for the door to open and a mess of curls to bounce into view that doesn’t come.

“Haz is always at home.  He never seems to leave; Zayn keeps him locked up here.” Niall chuckles, reaching up to knock on the door again and shout out at his friend through the door, willing him to open up.

“Well, I don’t think he is today.  Maybe he’s got work?” Niall frowns at Liam’s suggestion, knowing that Harry doesn’t work Saturday’s because that’s when the school kids come in for their low-pay weekend jobs.

“Nah, don’t think so.  I’ll text him.” Niall pulls his phone from his pocket, unlocking it quickly as he begins to tap away on the screen, typing out a text to Harry.  “Knowing our luck he’s decided to relocate them to Zayn’s flat instead of his own for once.”

Liam chuckles, knowing deep down that Niall’s suggestion is probably less likely to be correct than his own as Zayn prefers being at Harry’s than at his own, he finds it more comfortable, a kinder atmosphere, even, as Zayn believes that there’s less loneliness at Harry’s, that it feels more loved and collected than his own.

Liam’s thoughts are broken as Niall’s about to press the send button on his phone, reaching out to knock on the door again, muttering that he’s not going to waste his credit if they’re actually in there and just ignoring him. 

Niall’s thumb hovers over the button as he looks towards Liam for the go-ahead just as the knob on the door wiggles, the lock clicking before it’s opening to reveal Zayn, hair matted on his head and eyes tired and sad as he pulls the door open.

“You guys knock too loud.” He mutters, walking away from the door and leaving it wide open for them to walk themselves through as he wanders back into Harry’s flat, a pair of jogging bottoms his only clothing as he drops himself onto the sofa, surrounded by masses of slept-in blankets and pillows.

“What you doing here, Zee?” Liam asks, closing the front door behind Niall and himself as he starts towards Harry’s kitchen, noticing the lack of dishes in the sink, suggesting that they either ate out or didn’t at all last night.  “Where’s Haz?”

Liam continues to wander around the kitchen, switching on the kettle and lining up mugs for them to use before popping his head out of the kitchen, watching Zayn’s shoulders shrink and his eyes look sad as he looks up to meet his eyes.

“He went out to see his friend, he should be back soon.” Zayn whispers, tucking himself under the blankets as Niall sets himself into the arm chair opposite him.

Niall looks towards Liam, quirking his eyebrow towards the make-shift bed that Zayn’s slept in instead of the actual bed in Harry’s room and a question hanging off of his action as he and Liam make eye contact, but not bringing the question to life in the air, knowing that Zayn will tell them if and when he wants to.

“When’d he leave?” Liam asks just as the kettle boils, walking over to sort their drinks before carrying them into the living room and placing them on Harry’s coffee table before dropping onto the sofa with Zayn.

“Last night.” Zayn whispers, reaching out for the mug that has Harry’s name printed on it, the one his mum had bought him for his birthday earlier that year, and lapping at the boiling liquid inside of it.

“Last night?” Niall asks reaching for his own mug and letting the hot porcelain warm his skin as Zayn nods in response, his eyes never leaving his mug as he licks at his lips for the final residue from the tea inside of his mug.  “Surprised he even left his flat; he never seems to leave when you’re here.”

Zayn smiles small around his mug, a smile so miniscule that it makes something in Liam twitch, seeing the way that Zayn’s acting making him worry for his friend.  It’s the kind of reaction a father gets towards his daughter’s boyfriend, though more the worry for Zayn than the need to kill said boyfriend.

“What did he see him for?” Liam asks, his voice even as he clenches his hands in his lap, waiting for an answer that’s going to make either Zayn break or himself crack.

“Something happened that he needed to sort out, nothing too bad, Li.” Zayn smiles, watching the creases in Liam’s forehead deepen.  “He’s not in a drug dealing cult or anything like that, Li, he’s fine, honestly.”

Niall laughs loud at that, throwing his head back in pure, undoubted laughter, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open wide as he does so, fists white as he bashes them against the fabric-clad arms of the chair he’s sat in.

Liam frowns at him whilst Zayn chuckles along, reaching out to touch Liam’s shoulder and smooth the crease in his brow.  “Honestly, Li, it’s nothing.  He’s fine, I’m fine, and we’re fine.” Zayn smiles a little wider when Liam’s shoulders drop, the tension evaporating from his stature.

“God, Liam, you’re acting like you’re his father!” Niall cackles, pointing out at the two of them with a smirk.  “Don’t stay out too late!  Don’t kiss any boys!  Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Niall imitates, making Liam roll his eyes and Zayn laugh out loud, his head falling onto Liam’s shoulder.  “I’m surprised you haven’t decided to do a background check on Harry yet!”

“Why would I do a background check on Harry?” Liam enquires, quirking his eyebrow at Niall, as if Niall knows something that he doesn’t and really needs to.  That maybe there is a reason why he should do a background check on Harry, not that he knows how to even begin that process, anyway.

“My God, Li!” Zayn chuckles, pushing at Liam’s shoulder playfully. “You don’t need to do a background check on Harry!”

“But why would Niall say that?” He frowns, leaning into the sofa in exasperation at his best friends’ laughter and hidden knowledge.

“To make you paranoid, Li!  Harry’s fine okay, even you know that.” Zayn says, his eyes brightening at the mention of Harry before they slowly but surely lose their sparkle.  “Anyway, what did you wake me up for?  I was having a nice dream until you two came knocking.”

Niall snorts, reaching his foot out to poke at Zayn’s calf.  “Surprised you even need to dream anymore, I mean haven’t you done everything that there is to do already?”

Zayn smirks, leaning across the sofa to whisper into Niall’s ear, his eyes sparkling with mischief.  “It’s nice to do things again and again; to perfect them, y’know Nialler.”

Niall’s eyes widen as he pushes Zayn away, his face twisted in disgust at his friend’s retort whilst Zayn laughs loud, falling into Liam again.  “Anyway, we came round to ask if you wanted to go out tonight.”

Zayn’s eyes light up as he looks up towards Liam, his smile wide on his lips as he reaches out to pick his mug back up, downing the final dregs.  “Yeah, probably, need to ask Haz though.”

“He’s got you whipped, mate!”  Niall chuckles waiting for the glare to come from Zayn but receiving nothing but a small smile and shiny eyes.

“I know.”  Zayn grins, Harry’s face dancing past the backs of his eyes as he closes them, feeling the heat of the sun bursting through the curtains of Harry’s living room and the scent of Harry on all of the surfaces and his fingerprints scattered about them.

“You’re such a softy, Zayn!” Niall grins, his heart swelling for his friend and the happiness that he’s finally found after all these years, the joy and love that he rightfully deserves.  “The leather jacket is just a disguise; you’re all romantic gestures and heartfelt words, really.”

Zayn just smiles, dropping back into his make-shift bed, having not wanting to sleep in Harry’s bed without him when he left last night, hating the way the sheets had felt on his skin when Harry wasn’t by his side in the darkness of midnight and the way they had smelt of him, but in an artificial way that caused Zayn’s heart to hang heavy like lead in his chest.

Only one night away from Harry and he’s already a mess; this is what love does to you, he thinks but feels the words dance across his heart to the most divine melody he’s ever heard or felt within his soul.

This is what love does to you; makes you the happiest you’ve ever been in your entire existence and hope with all that you have that you make someone else happy too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:)
> 
> Check out my other work, if you'd like<3


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 2,000 hits, I honestly can't thank you guys enough for the support that you've given this story<3
> 
> Now have some Larry fluff as a present from me, I love you all, I honestly do!<3

Louis’ eyes crack open, burning under the force it takes to keep them open before they’re rolling back into his head, giving up on his body’s intentions to take in anything but the backs of his eyelids.

The knock sounds just seconds after Louis’ eyes close once again, only to be ripped open when he hears the jingle of bangles and bracelets as the raps on the door become more frequent; knowing instantly that it’s Harry who’s knocking and Louis wants no one other than his best friend right now.

“I’m coming, Haz.” Louis whispers, voice loud to his own ears as he hoists himself from his sofa, his hands sinking into the cushions as he tries to lift himself from it. 

His body aches once he’s up, knowing that he crick in his neck is from his decision to sleep on the sofa instead of his bed last night, when he felt it wrong to give himself the pleasure when another had felt it right not to do so.

Louis’ hands are quick to work on the lock, pulling open the door to see Harry stood pigeon-toed in the hallway, a gentle smile on his lips as if he thinks Louis may shoo him away, whilst his eyes gleam happily under the low light of the corridor.

They stand watching each other for a while, their eyes meeting then falling away from each other’s gaze instantly, whilst Louis leans on the door and Harry scuffs his shoes subconsciously into the floor of the hallway.

“Hey, Haz,” Louis smiles, reaching out to brush his knuckles along his friend’s forearm, hoping to rid his pale flesh of the crease between his brows, eyes gleaming when it inches out of his skin and away into the air, lost forever, Louis hopes.  “Come in.”

Harry toes over the threshold, holding Louis’ gaze the whole way across it, as if expecting Louis’ mind to change once his feet transfer from the corridors wood to the old, stained carpet of his apartment.

And when their friendship transpired into wary glances and what if’s, Louis will never know, but he doesn’t like it all the same.

“You alright then, Haz?” Louis drops not so gracefully back onto the sofa, settling back into the Louis shaped hole he created when he slept there last night. 

His clothes sticking to his skin as he does so whilst he thinks of the length of time he’s actually been wearing them and internally scolding himself for it, his mother would be disgusted in him, seeing him like this. 

He frowns to himself knowing that he’s not showered since Monday, hasn’t left the house since the Police dropped him home late Saturday night and hasn’t eaten anything since, maybe Thursday.  He hates himself for letting Harry be in his presence when he’s like this; seeing him like this, no doubt having to hold his breath whilst he does because he smells _that_ bad.

Louis curls in on himself then, knowing that Harry would accept him no matter what but still feeling bad for having to let him see him like this.“You can sit down y’know, Haz.” Louis whispers, voice unsure as he tries to talk to Harry, trying not to force, just encourage him, not wanting to lose the only friend he really has.

Harry’s eyes widen when Louis points it out, the tips of his ears flushing as he tiptoes across the carpet and around Louis’ cluttered coffee table over to Louis, setting himself carefully down onto the sofa cushion next to Louis’ own, and when did Harry do anything carefully, he’s normally jumping on Louis’ sofa like it’s his own.

“So, you okay, Haz?  Wasn’t expecting you this late.” Louis eyes the clock on the far wall, watching it tick it’s way to quarter to twelve before resuming his focus on Harry.

“I, erm, just wanted to see you.” Harry stutters, wringing his hands in his lap as he looks past Louis, eyes not quite meeting him as he sits stock still on the sofa.  “Sorry if I’m late, I didn’t know when to come, to be honest.”

Louis smiles before pulling Harry into his side and holding him as tightly as he can, whilst Harry’s breath dances on his skin in short, choppy gasps around a wide smile, lips wet against Louis’ bare forearm.

“I missed you,” Harry breathes, finally pulling away from Louis’ hold but still grasping at the material of his t-shirt, knuckles turning white under the strain before he’s wrapping Louis up in his own arms, muttering nothings that do nothing but make Louis smile and chuckle into Harry’s chest.  “You need a shower, Lou.”

“I missed you too, Haz.” Louis chuckles, reaching for Harry’s curls and tugging playfully as they rock back and forth in the moonlit night, the clock ticking away behind them as their hand’s fist in the back’s of each other’s shirt, just holding onto what they have left, not what they once had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be silent readers<3
> 
> Check out my other work, if you'd like to:)


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you stay on your cloud, my dear<3

Harry quickly ushers Louis into the small bathroom in the apartment once they pull apart, walking down the hallway to get a clean towel for Louis from the airing cupboard whilst Louis showers away all the grime that had accumulated on his body.

“Haz?” Louis calls as he shuts off the water from the shower, keeping the shower curtain closed as he shouts for his friend, waiting to hear the rhythmic footfalls of Harry as he comes towards the door, that never come. 

“Hazza?” Louis hops out of the bath tub, pulling the shower curtain open as he does so and stepping out onto the cool tile floor, hissing as the cold bites at his bare feet. 

Louis frowns when he pokes his head out of the bathroom door, eyes searching down the hallway for his friend before he’s wrapping himself in the old dressing gown that hangs on the back of the door and stepping out into the hallway, toes curling happily in the soft fibres of the carpet as he walks.

“Harry?” Louis whispers when he walks through the living room door, noticing the police report in Harry’s hands and the tremble of his shoulders as he hunches over to read the printed script.

Harry turns to face him, his eyes sad as they focus in on Louis in the doorway.  “A person did this to you?” Louis nods, his movements slow when Harry’s lower lip wobbles before he bites at it to still its trembling.

Harry’s eyes glow with the strength of a hundred fires at that, his fists clenching around the paper, crumpling the sheets as he spits venom with his eyes at the words on the page before he’s putting it back on the cluttered top of Louis’ coffee table.  “I’ll kill him.”

Harry stands quickly, his footfalls heavy as he marches about Louis’ living room, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright like glowing ambers as his jaw clenches under his skin.  “I’ll kill him.”  He whispers, voice harsh and coarse as the words are spat from between his lips, no inch of mercy in them as he continues to stomp around, shoulders set.

“Haz,” Louis reasons, stepping into the room to put his hand on Harry’s shoulder, trying to stop his pacing and put out the raging fire flickering in his eyes, licking at the emeralds of his eyes. “Don’t say that.”

Harry turns then, his jaw clenched as he tries to formulate the words he wants, his breath coming out in steady, timed gasps as he tries to control himself, all the emotions that he feels and the ache in his soul as his body dives into one emotion and out of another.

“I’ll say what I want, Louis!” Harry seethes, shoulders tensing under Louis’ hand.  “He did _that_ ,” He points his finger between the police report and Louis himself, the remnants of bruises still like spots on a Dalmatian on his flesh, perfectly pictured at their ripest in the police photos inside the report, no doubt etched into Harry’s mind currently.

“He did that, to you!  To _you_ , Lou.  So if I can’t say that I want to kill him then what kind of friend does that make me, huh?”  Harry’s pacing stops, his body stock still other than the harsh beating of his heart in his chest.  “He broke you, Lou.  He fucking _broke_ you.  So why can’t I break him?”

Harry’s eyes are hollow and sad when the fire in them is extinguished by the tears that brim his eyes, creating pools of sadness as they put out the angry light in his emerald orbs.  “Why can’t I break him, Lou?”

Louis wraps his arms around Harry, his skin still damp and stuck to the fluff of the dressing gown around his frame as he holds Harry, his tears almost lost instantly to the fabric of Louis’ dressing gown when they slip, hot and heavy down Harry’s cheeks.

Louis draws patterns into Harry’s skin as Harry ducks his head into the crook of Louis’ neck, breathing him in deeply before licking at the flesh there making Louis squeak in protest and push Harry away quickly.

Harry chuckles quickly, wiping at his eyes with the cuff of his jumper as he catches Louis’ eye as he also wipes moisture from his skin.  “The shower did you good, Lou.” Harry smirks as Louis chases after him, his hand wet with Harry’s saliva as he wipes it down Harry’s face in retaliation.

“Yeah, well, last time I check I wasn’t Zayn, so I won’t be needing your spit on my face, you loser.” Louis snides, scratching his fingernails over Harry’s scalp when they drop onto the sofa, Harry’s head in Louis’ lap.

“Who says it always goes on his face?” Harry smirks whilst Louis pushes Harry off of him and onto the floor with a squeal of childish glee.  Harry glares from his position on the floor as Louis smirks down at him, lips locked in a smile regardless.

“You two are disgusting, just so you know.” Louis says, eyes staring up to look out of the window, the moon hung high and bright in the sky as the stars litter the inky blackness around it.  “You’re both also perfect, but you already know that.”

Harry’s cheeks flush as he sits up on the floor, his feet tucked up under himself as rests his head on Louis’ knees, his fingers coming up to draw patterns on his calves.  “He’s perfect, y’know.” Harry whispers, mind far away.  “Just can’t see it, but he’s perfect.”

Louis smiles, watching the shimmer of happiness light up his best friend’s eyes and feeling the content strum of his heart against his calf as Harry noses at Louis’ dressing gown, the fabric soft against his face as his eyes flutter closed.  “Just like you then, Hazza.”

Harry shakes his head, his eyes opening slowly and face rising to look Louis in the eye.  “Nah, he doesn’t see it because he can’t see it, I can’t see it because I don’t believe it.”

“He can’t see it?” Harry shakes his head, a pout poised on his lips.  “How can he not see it, he would make supermodels fall at his feet!”  Harry chuckles, pulling at the hair encircling Louis’ calves playfully.  “Not that he would date a supermodel, I mean far too much hard work, plus who would he eat junk food with if he did?”

Harry smiles content, knowing that Louis’ right, but still curling in on himself at the thought of losing Zayn, of their love fading into something that doesn’t make his heart race wildly in his chest and having the sparkle in Zayn’s eyes directed at someone that isn’t himself.

“Yeah,” Harry smiles, grin tugging at his lips as Louis pulls him up onto the sofa to lay his head in his lap again and feel the heat of his body as they watch the moon dance across the expanse of the sky.  “He said he loved me the other day.”

“He did?” Louis smiles, tapping excitedly at Harry’s shoulder as his knees jump up and down in controlled joy for his best friend, knowing that those words would have made his face split in two as he smiled his earth-shatteringly beautiful smile when they hit his ears.  “Lucky boy is Zayn, loving my little Hazza Bear.”

“I’m the lucky one.” Harry whispers, his eyes falling closed against Louis’ thighs as the moon travels across the sky, the blackness reminding him of Zayn’s raven hair, his fingers twitching to run through the lengths of it whilst they curl up under the bed sheets, their bodies wrapped around each other underneath the sky high above them.  “I’m the lucky one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know! Don't be silent readers!<3


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your support is all I need <3

Once Zayn’s dressed and his hair is pushed up and off of his forehead in what he classes as a presentable mess, Liam and Niall drag him up and out of Harry’s small living room, smug grins on their faces when Zayn doesn’t fight back.

“So, where are we going then?” Zayn asks as they flank him on each side as they travel down the pavement, Zayn turning his head occasionally to catch sight of his reflection in the shop windows that they pass when the wind blows hard enough to push his hair out of place.

“Food.” Niall mutters, his stomach rumbling as he says the words, frowning down at his stomach when it doesn’t cease to rumble within himself.  “Need food.”

Liam rolls his eyes endearingly towards his friend as he dips his hands in his pockets, checking that he has his wallet on him, thanking the heavens when he feels the soft leather of the wallet that his dad bought for him years ago, against his fingertips.

“What type of food?” Zayn sounds marginally interested at that, his skin brightening up from its sad grey tinge as he turns his head to face Niall, eyes curious as he licks at his lips.  Yeah, he didn’t eat last night, Liam thinks.

“Edible food.” Liam grins, his eyes dancing up and down the shop windows around them, seeing all of the signs that are hung up in them and spotting the odd ‘Christmas Special’ item or service on offer, reminding him to ring his mum and see if it’s still okay for him to go down there for his Christmas dinner, not fancying being alone or making his own, if he’s being completely honest.

“Who says it needs to be edible, Liam?” Zayn chuckles, pointing his finger towards Niall with a playful smirk.  “He’ll eat anything!  Why waste money on edible food when we can get him near enough anything and he’ll put in his mouth and swallow?”

“You, Zayn Malik, are vile.” Niall deadpans, his face twisted into a look of disgust at the hidden message behind Zayn’s words.  “Absolutely disgusting.”

Zayn’s eyes become clouded with confusion before a delighted smirk laces his lips, his eyes brightening massively as he throws his head back, a laugh splitting from between his chapped lips as he wraps his arm around Niall’s shoulder, dragging him into his side.

“Oh, if you knew, Nialler!  If you only knew.” Zayn chuckles whilst Liam just blushes, warily glancing around at the few people littering the street, hoping with everything he has that they’ve not heard or understood their conversation.

“Pack it in, yeah?” Liam whispers, voice sharp as a mother with a young child walks past them, her hands loaded with shopping bags as her child skips past them, oblivious of the meanings behind their words.

“Oh, Liam!” Zayn howls, wrapping his arm around his friend and pulling him also into his side with a large, head thrown back cackle that Niall matches.  “And you tell us to stop, look at you, you dirty boy!”

Liam’s cheeks flush, dipping his chin to his chest to hide his eyes from those of the elderly couple walking towards them, trying to avoid their knowing eyes, not sure if they understand what they are saying or if they just don’t want them to continue making the ruckus that they are currently.

“Shut up, yeah.” Liam whispers, his voice unsure and quiet as Zayn and Niall laugh out loud around him, making his heart swell with happiness whilst his cheeks flush with a stark shade of crimson.  “Let’s just get some food before I have to drop you both back off at the zoo.”

That makes Niall and Zayn laugh harder, their breaths coming out in heavy puffs around their laughter, holding onto each other as if they depend on one another; a fact deemed to be true when Niall trips on a paving stone, accent thick with mumbled curses as he falls into Zayn’s side, fingers turning white as they grip onto his leather jacket for balance.

“You’re such a klutz, Nialler.” Zayn says, voice thick with fondness and endearment at the blonde boy, as he wraps his arms around him, pulling him closer to his body as they walk down the street, shielding him like a mother penguin would her young as he drapes himself over Niall and they waddle together, feet occasionally tangling as they stand on each other’s heels.

“My God, I was joking about the zoo, but if you really want me to drop you off.” Liam mutters, rolling his eyes at his friends’ antics, a smile lining his lips as his heart hammers in his chest, knowing he has his two clowns in his life, no matter what happens and that nothing can change that.

Niall and Zayn laugh manically again, bashing heads as they throw them back simultaneously, causing groans to mix in with their splutters of laughter, whilst Liam pushes them through the doors of the cafe at the end of the street, apologising to the woman behind the counter with his eyes as he sets the laughing pair into a booth as they cling to one another.

And really, why does he feel the need to apologise for the two people that have made his life the best it ever could have been?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know. Don't be silent readers!<3


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how much you guys have supported and encouraged me to carry on with this story, you're all one in a million, you truly are<3

“You should probably go home, Haz.” Louis whispers, his voice quiet against the drone of the TV programme that Harry’s watching, his eyes focused on the white of Harry’s knuckles as they grasp onto Louis’ jogging bottoms.

Harry smiles small from where he’s laid over Louis’ lap, his curls splayed out over Louis’ thighs as he uncurls his fingers one by one from the material covering Louis’ legs, skin falling a normal colour when he does and joints cracking at the sudden movement. 

“Yeah,” He whispers half-heartedly, never trying to rise from his position on Louis’ legs as he keeps his eyes on the TV.  Harry’s breath comes out in hot puffs through the material of Louis’ jogging bottoms and onto the meat of Louis’ legs as the current TV programme flicks over onto the news, notifying them that it’s 12 o’clock.

“Haz,” Louis whispers, dragging his fingers through Harry’s curls, trying to get his attention to fall on himself and not the woman that’s informing them of the current state of the UK economy, as if they need to know the infinite details when it’s obvious, what with the price of everything going up. 

When he does receive his attention and Harry’s big, emerald eyes fall on him, a sad gleam in his orbs as black bags hang underneath them he sighs, avoiding Harry’s eyes, knowing that he’ll crumble if he does.

“Yeah, Lou?” Harry croaks, voice as rough as he currently looks and Louis’ heart bleeds in his chest at the lost look Harry’s eyes hold, as if he has no direction anymore, nowhere to go.

“You need to go home, Haz.” Harry frowns, big eyes looking up at Louis, seemingly betrayed before he ducks his head back into Louis’ lap, breathing in deeply before lifting himself off of the sofa, footsteps dragging as he moves.

Harry moves like the life has been sucked out of him as he pulls his jumper sleeves down over his hands, looking for his shoes that he lost late last night when he and Louis crawled into bed, secrets on their tongues and happiness in their hearts at what they were able to salvage from one another.

“You need to sleep, Haz.” Louis whispers, rising after Harry to look for his lost shoes, passing one of them with a smile when he finds it hidden under the cluttered coffee table in the living area.  “You need to eat and sleep, and stop worrying.”

Harry frowns, rubbing at his eyes with his hands balled up in fists as his forehead creases before accepting the shoe that Louis offers him with a quiet _thank you_ and tucking his feet into it quickly, foregoing tying them up and instead slipping the laces inside of them around his feet.

“I am eating and sleeping.” Harry argues whilst Louis watches the tired flutter of his eyes and slump of his shoulders and the way Harry quickly removes his hands from his eyes, trying to hide the fact that he was rubbing at them just moments prior due to exhaustion.

“Good, now stop worrying and you’ll look like you again.” Louis smiles, reaching over to squeeze at Harry’s shoulder and feeling Harry melt into his hand and grin up at him, eyes soft and clouded with the need to sleep properly, that Harry won’t actually admit verbally.  “And see some more of Zayn, to put more of a sparkle in your eyes and a spring in your step.”

Harry grins; hiding his smile behind his fist but the telltale shimmer in his eyes gives it away instantly as his cheeks gain an adorable rosy glow.  “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Louis chuckles watching his friend’s reaction to just a four letter word, feeling his lips lift into a dopey smile for his best friend, watching how he’s grown and the joys that he’s found as he’s travelled through life.  “Bet it does, now go, yeah?  Bet he’s lost, not being at yours and stuck at his own place.”

Harry looks down at his feet as he reaches his hand to scratch at the back of his neck before settling his hand around is opposite wrist, fingers toying with the masses of bracelets wrapped there.  “He’s at mine.” Harry blushes, “I left him there when I came round here last night.”

Louis frowns at his friend, hunting his eyes to make sure that he’s not just being strung along before his face tips into a deeper frown.  “You left him?” Harry nods, eyes not meeting Louis’ own as he starts to wring his hands. 

“Jesus Christ, Harry!  You had _Zayn_ in your apartment and you came here?” Harry nods again, eyes lifting to meet Louis’ before dropping the moment they see the disbelieving look in them. 

“Wow, I must be bloody special!  If it had been the other way around I’d have left you, mate, because you’re _crazy_ about him.”Harry makes a choked sound as he tries to splutter out an excuse that Louis quickly dismisses.  “I mean, I just have to say his name and you go as crimson as a bloody blushing virgin!”

“I don’t,” Harry argues, cheeks a light pink, just proving Louis point – he smirks in response, feeling no need to argue a proven fact.

“Anyway, get off with you, I feel like I’m cock-blocking.” Harry chokes on his spit, eyes disbelieving as they meet the mischievous gleam in the blue of Louis’ eyes before he pushes at Louis’ shoulder playfully, muttering to _shut up, Lou_ ,

Harry smiles slowly as he walks towards the door, his eyes falling on the police report still sat on Louis’ coffee table before Louis blocks it from his view, feeling the tension in Harry’s shoulders fade once it’s out of sight.

“I’ll sort it, Haz.” Louis says truthfully, leaning against the doorframe when Harry opens the door and steps over the threshold, the midday sun gleaming in through the windows in the hallway and making Harry look like the true angel he is as it glows from behind him, creating a halo around his form.

“You always do.” Harry smiles, reaching out to pull Louis into a hug before he’s loosening his grip and squeezing Louis’ hand.  “I’ll see you, yeah?”  Louis nods, a grin gracing his lips when Harry’s smile stretched wide, exposing the neat line of his teeth.  “Bye, Lou, take care of yourself, yeah?”

When Louis nods in confirmation, Harry starts his way down the corridor, his feet causing the wooden floorboards to creak as he goes before he’s flicking Louis a smile and a wave over his shoulder, feet inching down onto the first step of the stairs until his frame is lost from sight and all Louis has is the scent of Harry in his apartment and the memory of his face-splitting smile to keep the bad memories away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know. Don't be silent readers!<3


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit taken with Zarry at the minute...

Harry quickly slips out the front door of Louis’ building, eyes sore under the sharp light of the hovering sun as he pulls his phone out from his jean pocket, smiling at Zayn’s goofy grin that comes with up on his screensaver when he turns it on.

The wind is light; not inflicting much of a chill on Harry’s body, though he wishes he had took his own advice and brought a coat, though instead in his rush of emotions he decided to leave it at home for Zayn to use, should he need to.

‘Missed you love! I’m coming home, I’ll see you soon:) Love you<3 x’ he types, mind set to walk back towards his apartment as fast as possible, his heart seeming to lighten when the thought of Zayn flutters in his mind.

Harry waits mere seconds before he gets a reply, smiling dopily at his phone as he tries to keep himself from walking into any unsuspecting victims, due to his gangly limbs and lack of co-ordination – which makes him _cute_ and _endearing_ , according to Zayn, but that’s an opinion that he just doesn’t understand, in the slightest.

‘I’m at the cafe down the road from yours with Ni and Li, I’ll be home soon.  Love you too <3 x’

‘I’ll meet you there, need food Zee, starved! x’

‘You seem like Niall’s type of man, you trying to win his heart or mine?;) x’

‘I thought I already had yours x’

Harry’s heart jumps up from his chest and sits on the back of his tongue, forcing his breath to stay stagnant in his throat and his heartbeat to throb heavily in his ears, as he clenches his phone in his hand, not quite knowing what to do with himself as he edges closer to the cafe, to Zayn, and the possibility of heart shattering rejection.

‘You’ve always had mine <3 I can see you:)’

Harry’s eyes flicker up to meet the soft and gentle amber of Zayn’s, the glare off of the cafe’s shop window front glass morphing his frame into a contorted image that doesn’t fail to make Harry grin sappily and wave timidly, ducking his head to hide his flaming cheeks and widening smile.

Pushing the glass door to the cafe open, the bell above the door rings, making Zayn raise his head almost in slow motion - like they do in all of the romantic movies that Harry watches - the same dopey grin that is forever encased in the pixels of Harry’s phone coming to life as his tongue pushes against the backs of his teeth whilst his stubble twists to fit around his ever-stretching mouth.

“Hey,” Zayn smiles, his eyes bright in the artificial gleam of the cafe lights above, black bags hanging under them and as though he had wiped at them once he had finished with the charcoal drawing he was working on the other week, sweeps of black clinging to his skin, making him look younger, more innocent.

“Hey,” Harry grins back, watching as Zayn slips out of his seat, offering it to Harry and slipping in next to him when Harry slides over the booth’s seat, knowing that Harry likes to sit next to the wall, feels more comfortable with it next to him. 

“Thanks, Zee.”  Harry whispers, cheeks ablaze as Niall and Liam smirk knowingly at them, trying to settle himself under their cheeky gazes and smiling up at them timidly before dropping his eyes once again.

“Anytime,” Zayn’s hand quickly reaches out around Harry’s body, his arm a comfortable weight around his waist and his long fingers slotting themselves between the gaps in Harry’s own, squeezing happily when they fold around one another and Harry’s shoulder bumps into Zayn’s own.  “You okay?”

Harry nods, small and happy, snuggling deeper into Zayn’s side, making Zayn’s grin tug harder at his lips as he squeezes at Harry’s hand once again, reaching across the table to pass Harry a menu.  “What would you like to eat?”

Harry shrugs, unsure, before he flips open the menu, looking up and smiling towards Liam and Niall and saying hello, ignoring their nudges between one another at he and Zayn.  Zayn’s mentioned that they find it hilarious, the way that he and Zayn act together and this just proves it.

“I don’t know, have you guys eaten yet?” Niall shakes his head sadly, his stomach growling and making the whole table laugh whilst he pointedly frowns at the three of them.

“No, Zayn made us wait but we’ve decided what we want.” Liam says, reaching over to poke at Niall’s belly.  “This is like a bottomless pit.”

Niall glares at Liam at his words, pushing his finger away playfully. “I haven’t eaten all day, Liam.” Before he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in the booth watching Zayn and Harry, with a gentle smile.

“It’s twelve o’clock.” Liam deadpans, switching his attention between his menu that is still laid out in front of him and Niall’s hilarious glare, seeing it more of a sad puppy look than the stare of the devil, that Niall intends for it to be.

“I don’t see your point.” Niall mutters, flicking his attention to Liam and then straight back to Harry and Zayn, watching Zayn lean over Harry’s shoulder reading the menu and whispering in his ear, making Harry smile and chuckle at his words.  “Know what you want, Haz?”

Harry startles, knocking noses with Zayn when he whips his head up to look at Niall instead of his menu, looking at Niall with wide green eyes before he nods with a small smile and Niall’s attention is lost to calling over a waitress to take their order.

“Sorry,” Harry whispers, leaning up to kiss at Zayn’s nose in apology whilst Zayn just smiles at him, returning the gesture with a blush, before he’s relaying his and Harry’s orders to the waitress that Niall collared, tapping on Harry’s wrist for confirmation that he got it all right before the waitress walks away.

And this is why Zayn stole his heart, because he’s everything that makes Harry happy, in ways he never knew would make him happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any thoughts, positive or negative, on this story please let me know:)
> 
> -Don't be silent readers!<3


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't already love Zarry, you're going to have to learn to!

“Was Lou okay?” Zayn whispers just as the waitress carries their food across, smiling when she sets down their plates and cutlery, checking on their drinks and whether they need refills. 

“Yeah,” Harry smiles, wrapping his foot between Zayn’s ankles under the table and feeling Zayn trap it and squeeze it playfully as he pushes Harry’s plate towards him.  “He’s alright, getting better I think.”

“Good,” Zayn smiles, attention flicking onto Niall and Liam, seeing the knowing look in their eyes and glaring at them, Niall throwing his head back instantly in laughter whilst Liam bites at his lower lip to hide his glee.  “You guys are losers.”

“We’re not losers,” Niall frowns, flicking a salt sachet at Zayn in retaliation.  “We’re your best friends, no need to seem like a tough guy in front of Harry; he’s seen your comic book collection, he knows you’re a dork.”

“I’m not a dork,” Zayn pouts, lobbing the salt sachet back at Niall, Harry chuckling next to him when it hits Niall square in the forehead.  “I admire people’s creativity, that doesn’t make me a dork.”

“Putting them in plastic wallets to protect them from dust makes you a dork though.” Niall says, running a hand through his hair as he smirks wildly at the flame of Zayn’s cheeks.  “Don’t worry, Zayn, we love you because you’re our dork.”

“Wow, thank, Ni,” Zayn deadpans, picking at the skin surrounding his thumb nail in agitation.  “You love me for that and that alone, great.”

“Nah, no, Zaynie!  We love you for you too, but that’s the reason why Harry, here, loves you.  We had to find something else to love instead.” Niall cackles, picking up his knife and fork and digging hungrily into his meal, smiling around each mouthful.

“Leave him alone, Nialler.” Liam smiles, reaching over to knock his knuckles into Zayn’s shoulder in a friendly greeting, eyes warm.  “We love you for you, Zayn.  Nothing can change that.”

Zayn smiles small, a blush dancing across his cheeks as he dips his head towards his food, chewing contemplatively, muttering an honest _thank you_.

The four of them fall silent as they eat, the people around them chattering happily and finishing their food whilst the bell above the door rings, introducing new diners to the cafe; waitresses rushing up towards them and offering them today’s special as soon as their bums hit the plastic seats.

“I love you for you too.” Harry whispers as he reaches across Zayn for the vinegar bottle on the other side of the table, his lips at the shell of Zayn’s ear inconspicuously before he’s sitting back in his seat, smiling as if he hadn’t made Zayn’s blood rush to his face and his heartbeat quadruple its _thrum_ , _thrum_ , _thrums_.

Zayn smiles wider, dipping his head to focus on his food and try to stop the happy shake of his hands as he brings his full English breakfast up to his mouth whilst Niall, Liam and Harry jump into a conversation about them having corrupted Liam, said boys cheeks going rosy as the conversation deepens.

“I don’t know if Zayn told you, but Liam here’s got the whole weekend off,” Niall starts once their conversation on Liam’s corruption comes to an end, moping at his mouth with his napkin as he looks across at Harry, his food gone from his plate whilst everyone else’s still sits half-eaten on the porcelain.

“You’ve got the whole weekend off?” Harry asks, eyes meeting Liam’s pleased ones as he nods, smile gracing his lips.  “Woah, you never seem to have the whole weekend off!” Liam grins wider, his eyes shining happily, as if picturing his two days of freedom.

“Anyway, Li’s got the whole weekend off, so we wanted to know if you fancied coming out for a drink with us?” Niall asks, easy smile on his lips as he reaches over to snatch a piece of toast off of Liam’s plate.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Harry smiles before it’s lost in the cloud of his eyes and his furrowed brow.  “What about Lou?” Harry turns to Zayn then, worry evident in his emerald eyes as they meet the warm amber of Zayn’s. 

Zayn looks at him confused, brow burrowed as he searches Harry’s eyes for clues and bites at his lip in thought. “I said I might pop in.” Harry continues, trying to jog Zayn’s memory.

Zayn understands then, his eyes widening slightly when the thought comes to the front of his mind – it’ll be a week since the _incident_.

“We don’t have to go,” Zayn smiles small, feeling the slump of Niall and Liam’s shoulders without seeing them whilst he sweeps his thumb over Harry’s hand, trying to convey the fact that they can drink anytime and that they can skip this one; that Louis needs them more.

Harry shakes his head, curly hair falling into his eyes before he’s blowing it out of his eyes so that he can look up into Zayn’s.  “You can go, y’know.”

Zayn frowns then, he doesn’t want to leave Harry on his own, and especially not when he’s supporting Louis at a time like this.  “I’m not going to leave you, I’ll come with you, we can go out drinking anytime.”

Niall snorts then, expression pissed.  “We can’t drink anytime, Zayn.” Liam rolls his eyes, shaking his head fondly at his blonde friend before he looks over at Zayn and Harry, at the conversation that they’re having with their eyes.

“Lou can come to?” Liam sounds almost doubtful of whether his suggestion is of any use, but Harry and Zayn instantly pull their eyes away from one another, turning to face Liam head on, causing Liam to sink into his seat, suddenly hugely doubtful of his words. 

“If they want to, anyway.” Liam assures, ducking his head and sliding his hands off of the tabletop to rest under the table, trying to hide from the indescribable look dancing in Harry’s eyes.

They sit in silence, Zayn’s eyes glued to the side of Harry’s face as said boy looks out into the distance, past Liam and Niall and out to stare at the wall at the other end of the cafe, the wall tatty with black marks where tables and chairs have been knocked into the white paint.

“Haz?” Niall tries, feeling the tension radiating out of Zayn’s pores and the unsure twist to his lips as he watches his boyfriend, squeezing at his hand in a way that only they seem to do.  “You okay?”

Harry smiles, eyes being pulled off of the far wall and onto the nervous arch of Niall’s mouth; instantly missing the wide, infectious smile and laughter that tumbles from it, hating the fact that he put the unsure twist in his Irish friend’s frame.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” Zayn relaxes at Harry’s words, his hand clenching tighter at Harry’s side protectively.  “I’ll probably come out, but later on; need to see Lou and then I’ll come, yeah?”

Niall smiles his wide smile, eyes crinkling and Harry’s suddenly smiling in response to it, reaching down to pick his fork back up off of the side of his plate and shovel his slowly cooling food into his mouth, smiling wider when he catches Zayn’s eyes and gesturing at him to eat also.

Zayn shakes his head fondly at Harry, pulling him closer to his side and whispering that _they don’t really need to go out tonight_ , but Harry’s having none of it, shaking his head and calling out to Niall that Zayn’s trying to stop their night out.

Niall glares, kicking at Zayn under the table and telling him to shut up and leave his plans for socialisation alone.  “Just because you don’t like leaving Harry’s flat doesn’t mean that he doesn’t.”

Harry laughs, free and happy at Niall’s words, leaning to kiss Zayn’s cheeks when he pouts, but smiling despite himself when Zayn’s cheek feels hot under his lips.  “I like it when you don’t leave.”

“I like it when I don’t as well.” Zayn smiles, leaning to stroke at Harry’s cheek, his skin silky smooth under Zayn’s fingers before he’s pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth.

“Honestly,” Niall cackles whilst Liam tries to shush him, eyes apologetic as they look towards Harry and Zayn.  “We can’t take you anywhere.” 

Liam hits at Niall playfully, telling him to leave them alone as Harry and Zayn’s cheeks flush the same shade of red, Harry hiding his head in Zayn’s shoulder to hide his sappy smile whilst Zayn mutters that they need to finish eating, smiling around his words when Harry kisses at his neck, lips cool on the heat of his skin.

“Love you,” Harry whispers, nosing at Zayn’s throat before going back to eating his food, passing his cup of orange juice to Zayn with a smile, knowing that he wants some but wouldn’t order himself some when the waitress asked, just accepting a water to wash his food down with.

“Love you too,” Zayn smiles, bumping Harry’s jean-clad thigh with his own as he takes a mouthful of orange juice, instantly passing it back to Harry with a content _thank you_ and the taste of both orange and Harry on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of the Silent Readers that have stuck with this story, regardless of the fact that it's stupidly long! You're all stars, every single one of you<3
> 
> Anyway, please let me know your thoughts, positive or negative and any and all mistakes are my own:)


	36. Proof that Hazza is a badass punk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry again...  
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh

“Do you think Lou would want to come out with us tonight, y’know after what happened?” Harry whispers, tucking his hand in Zayn’s as they wander down the streets back to his apartment, having just waved Liam and Niall goodbye.

“I honestly don’t know,” Zayn sighs, thinking back to how Louis was when he saw him not quite a week ago, the tired shake to his frail body and the shallow depths of his empty eyes.  “How was he when you saw him?”

“He was more like _Lou_ , y’know?” Zayn nods, understanding what Harry means – he was more than just the empty shell that has been left behind.  “We more or less acted like teenage girls; discussing secrets and telling stories and hugging.  It was good.” Harry smiles, eyes shining.

Zayn laughs, tugging Harry into his side and kissing at his hair whilst Harry laughs animatedly, fingers clawing tight in Zayn’s leather jacket, loving the feel of it under his nails. 

“Well aren’t you just adorable.” Zayn coos, ruffling up Harry’s hair with a face-splitting grin tattooed to his lips, his stubble glinting in the soft light of the sun above.

“I’m not adorable,” Harry frowns, bottom lip subconsciously pouting whilst Zayn just laughs harder, chest rising and falling happily as he tugs Harry under his arm again, wrapping his jacket around Harry’s torso, locking him tight against his chest as he presses delicate kisses to Harry’s smooth jaw.

“Course you’re not, Hazza Boo,” Harry smiles despite himself at the nickname, crumbling under Zayn’s jacket and leaning against Zayn’s strong chest, lifting his chin to give Zayn some more room to scatter his love.  “You’re far too tough to be adorable.”

Harry grins, nipping at Zayn’s jaw in retaliation at the sarcasm dousing his words, making Zayn whine against Harry’s jaw and nibble playfully there as he speaks. 

“I mean, what’s not tough about this,” Zayn’s hands travel up Harry’s torso to land on the oversized arms of Harry’s jumper that hold his tucked up hands. 

“Or this,” he grins when he reaches the beads of the friendship bracelet Louis made many moons ago, wrapped around Harry’s wrist, too small, but Harry downright refuses to take it off. 

“And I’ve never seen anything look more tough, than the squeak that you make when I do this,” Zayn’s hands travel up Harry’s sides, his fingers inching up the material of his jumper until his hands hit bare skin, scraping his nails over the endless ridges until he finds Harry’s waist, squeezing and watching as Harry jumps against him, squeak slipping deliciously over Harry’s bitten lips.

“You’re such a dork,” Harry mutters, trying aimlessly to pull away from Zayn’s grasp but giving up when Zayn breathes hotly behind his ear, turning Harry pliant in his arms and allowing himself to be wrapped up tight in Zayn’s embrace.

“I’m your dork,” Zayn grins when Harry falls limp in his arms, letting Zayn hold him against himself, feeling the panes of Harry’s back against his chest as he tries to guide them down the pavement, just footsteps away from Harry’s building’s front door.

Harry huffs out a breath at how Zayn sees that as a compliment instead of an insult, as he had just half an hour ago whilst he and the boys ate down at the cafe.  “I’m your dork too.”

Zayn frowns, honey eyes dead-set on Harry’s own emerald green ones, “You’re not a dork; you’re my Harry, my little Hazza Bear.”

Harry instantly melts, leaning up to kiss Zayn, their lips sliding with one another as they come to a standstill outside of Harry’s apartment, people around them coming and going but their hearts staying locked in place, with one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't be silent readers, let me know anything and everything you have to say about this story - make me work for your praise!


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too long to go now, my Nouis shippers...

“Zayn’s not going to let him leave his apartment,” Niall seethes as he and Liam walk down the pavement, the buildings turning from shops to houses in just a few steps.  “I can just feel it.”

“Does it really matter?  You’ll be with me, what’s better than that?” Liam smirks; knocking his shoulder into Niall’s playfully, trying to knock the fight from Niall’s eyes and let his friend’s have a peaceful night together instead of being in Niall’s drunkenly-clingy clutches.

Niall looks across at Liam, eyes fond yet not at all amused as he digs his hands in his pockets, leaning his head on Liam’s shoulder as they walk, the sun still dancing unnaturally warm in the sky above.  “Nothing’s better than that.  I just wanted us to be altogether, y’know?”

“N’awh,” Liam coos, rubbing at Niall’s hair with his knuckles playfully whilst he squints down at his blonde friend, his eyes as gentle as the words that leave his lips.  “You’re going soft, Nialler.”

“I’m not soft, I’m sociable.” Niall scowls, knocking Liam’s hands from his hair instantly before doing the same to Liam, his hair soft under his fingers.  “ _You’re_ soft.”

“And how am I soft?” Liam asks, eyes curious as they slow their walk once they reach the road that they need to cross, his cautious eyes flicking between the passing stream of vehicles and Niall’s knowing, blue eyes.

“Alex.”

Liam’s lips perk up in a small smile just at the mere mention of the dark haired male, whilst his cheeks ignite in a tender blush, feeling the comforting weight of Alex’s words in his phone against his thigh.  “Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Friends,” Niall snorts, “I’m _friends_ with _you_.  That word means that you _don’t_ want to get in their pants, not that you do.  You add ‘boy’ in front of that word to make it mean what you want it to.”

Liam’s cheeks darken as he pushes Niall into his apartment building, telling him to _shut up_ as he eyes the unsuspecting people wandering outside of the large glass door, not wanting them to hear the words that Niall’s letting flow into the atmosphere.

“What?  I’m just letting you know, Li.” Niall smirks, running up the stairs to his apartment, leaving the door open for Liam before he drops himself onto the sofa, tugging his phone from his pocket as the cushions pull him into their warm embrace.

‘You ready to spend your hard-earned cash on booze yet, my ginger haired friend?;)’

His phone buzzes not ten seconds later, ‘Ed’ dancing over the pixels.  ‘More than ready!’

‘Me and some friends are going out tonight; meet at the pub down the road from me at 8 if you’re in’

‘Always in for booze, mate’

Niall chuckles, sliding his phone onto the arm of the sofa as Liam drops down onto the sofa next to him, remote in hand. 

“This feels very familiar.” Liam grins, turning on the TV and clicking on the sports channel as a football game plays, watching to see the fumbling of the players on the pixels.

“Little bit,” Niall smiles, reaching out to shoot a text off to Zayn, demanding he let Harry come out for a drink tonight and not have him holed up in his flat all night, like Niall _knows_ he wants.  “Ed’s coming out with us, should be a right laugh!  Told him to meet us at the pub down the road at 8.”

“It’ll be good, haven’t been out with him in a while.” Liam grins, tipping his head in thought of the last time that they drank together and the drunken sing along they started on the way home, falling over one another before falling through Niall’s front door and sleeping on his front room floor in a sweaty man pile.  “He’s a funny drunk.”

“Yeah, he is.  You inviting Alex out, meet the family and stuff,” Niall waggles his eyebrows at Liam, waiting for the mottled flush to line his cheeks, but all he gets is nervous eyes and Liam’s sharp canine stuck in said boy’s bottom lip.

“Maybe, I haven’t really thought about it.” Liam mumbles, turning away from Niall and feeling the previous warmth comfort of his phone turn into a heavy weight in his heart.

“You haven’t really thought about it or you’ve thought about it but you don’t really know?” Niall questions, twisting himself in his place on the sofa to watch Liam, the nervous twitch of the vein in his neck.

“I don’t know,” Liam sighs, “He’s got work tomorrow anyway, that’s how I’m getting the whole weekend off.”

“N’awh,” Niall smiles, reaching over to squeeze Liam’s cheeks.  “He’s a true Prince Charming, isn’t he?  Working so that you don’t have to!  Lucky boy, Liam, you’re a very lucky boy.  Wish that I could have someone that would go out of their way to work my shift for me!”

“Yeah,” Liam flushes, eyes trained intently on the slip-ups of the football players still trying to get the ball from their opponents on the screen so that he’s not tortured by the knowing arch of Niall’s mouth or his shiny, excited eyes.  “I’ll text him, see what he says.”

“There’s my boy, Liam!” Niall cheers, fist pumping the air happily whilst Liam just rolls his eyes fondly at his friend before typing out a message to Alex, holding his breath as he thumbs the send button.  “Plus, this way we can get you in his pants quicker! What with you both potentially becoming intoxicated!”

Liam squawks, eyes wide in their sockets as his eyelids struggle to keep them inside of his head and not rolling across the floor of Niall’s living room.  “What!”

Niall smirks, reaching over to ruffle Liam’s hair and push his chin back up, his lips joining once again. “You’re catching flies,” he chastises playfully whilst Liam stays wide-eyed, eyebrows dancing up within his hair.

“What!” Liam repeats, face scrunched in confusion whilst he twists himself round to look at Niall, the twitch of his smirk on his wide spread lips.  “What!”

“You know what, Liam.” Niall says, trying to keep his lips from being tugged up into a smile and throwing his head back in laughter at the look of pure shock on Liam’s face, the bulge of his eyes from his sockets and the roll of his tongue back down his throat.

“I-I don’t think that I do,” Liam whispers, running his hand through his hair nervously before he’s startled by the _ding_ of his phone, squeaking in fear before noticing what it is.

Liam smiles down at his phone, eyes rolling back into their sockets as his tongue tugs itself back up his throat and into his mouth again before he’s biting at his lip, willing them to fall from their peaks at the corners.

‘Ok:) Missed you today so I don’t mind when or where I see you!  I’ll see you later, Li x’

“He’s such a sap,” Niall chuckles, reading over Liam’s shoulder and grinning at the words that were only meant for Liam.  “I like him.”

“Go away, Nialler,” Liam says as he pushes at his friend’s shoulder, Niall rolling away from him as he does so until he’s laid on his back over the sofa’s cushions, smiling brightly up at Liam, at the twinkle in his brown-eyed friend’s eyes.

“Consider me gone, now go talk to lover boy.” Liam quirks an eyebrow at Niall in confusion before his phone is buzzing constantly in his hand and Alex’s name is flashing on the screen, along with a set of accept and reject button.

“I swear you’re magic,” Liam mutters, making Niall laugh whilst Liam rises from the sofa, a smile both on his lips and dancing in his eyes as he leaves the room to talk to Alex, the sugar in his voice enough to rot his teeth as the pair talk aimlessly to one another.

Niall smiles after his friend, the small, almost hidden skip in his step as he walks into Niall’s bedroom to talk to Alex, his name sounding like the happiest word to have ever left Liam’s lips and Niall’s stomach flips with joy and happiness for his friend, seeing him happy, like never before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, on this story, please let me know:) Don't be silent readers<3


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like this chapter, but I wanted to get this out for you guys because this story has reached over 2,500 hits and that, to me, is absolutely MASSIVE! I love you all<3

Liam slips out of Niall’s bedroom not long after he went in, mumbling at Niall to stop looking so smug whilst he dropped onto the sofa next to said grinning boy and watching the TV up until it was time for them to get ready to go out.

“Does this look okay?” Liam asks as he exits Niall’s room, smoothing his hands down the front of his white dress shirt, rolling up the cuffs once he’s deemed it crease-free.

“You know it looks more than okay, Li.” Niall grins, propping his foot on his coffee table to tie up his shoe.  “You look awesome.”

“Thanks, you look good as well, Nialler,” Liam smiles, walking towards Niall’s bathroom to use the toothbrush that Niall bought him for his birthday.  _You stay here as often as I do, Li.  You may as well have a Batman toothbrush to complete your collection of clothes and shoes that stay here_ , he had said when Liam gave him a raised brow.

Niall looks down at himself, noting the way his black and white baseball shirt clings to his arms and chest, defining them in a way that makes him smile, whilst his dark jeans look good on his legs where they’re tucked into his white Supras.  And yeah, he just might have to agree as he runs his hand through his hair, remembering he needs Zayn to dye it again.

“Li, remind me to ask Zayn if he can dye my hair again!” Niall shouts as he wanders down the hallway to the bathroom, standing next to Liam as he reaches for his own toothbrush, Liam popping a pea of toothpaste onto it with a foamy smile around his own brush.

The pair are soon ready; walking through Niall’s flat and picking up necessary wallets and sets of keys as they switch off lights and appliances, before locking the front door behind themselves and setting out into the night.

Once inside the warmth of the pub, Niall heads to a booth in the back whilst Liam orders their drinks from the bar, carrying them back as Ed trails him, carrying his own in his hand. 

“Hey, Niall,” Ed greets, sliding around the table to sit next to Niall and nicking coasters from another table to slide under their pints.

“Hey, Ed,” Niall takes a swig from his pint, closing his eyes as the cool liquid barrels its way down his throat.  “Good weekend?”

Ed nods, his lips quirking into a smile as he thumbs at the coaster sat underneath his beer.  “Yeah, s’been good; saw Megan.”

“Who’s Megan?” Liam asks as he dips his head to take a gulp of his beer, foam sticking to his upper lip before he’s licking it away with a childish gleam in his eyes.

Niall looks to Ed to hunt down any sign that he wants the whole Megan thing to be kept a secret, but when Ed’s eyes flick from dreamy and far away one minute to focusing on Liam and blushing as he bites his bottom lip to hide his smile, Niall knows that Ed wants to share, to stop himself from bursting with the emotion that’s coursing through his veins.

“I met her at my cousin’s wedding, she’s really cool,” Ed smiles, eyes cloudy with thought as the corner of his lip arches into a lopsided grin.  “She’s not what you expect her to be; she’s more than your average girl and it’s good, refreshing, y’know?”

Liam nods intently as he continues to question Ed, seemingly more entranced by Megan than Ed is as he asks question after question, nodding his head knowingly and as if he understands when Ed delves deeper into what he might actually feel for her.

“We’ve been texting and calling a lot, we met up today and got lunch, just a sandwich in town but she’s just a person that I want to be around, she makes me _want_ to see her and it feels good.” Liam smiles as he takes a sip at his beer, he and Niall watching the passion dance in Ed’s eyes as he talks about her, about how he likes her like he’s liked no one else before.

They sit there, chugging back their beers until Liam’s eyes melt in their sockets and a blush dances high on his cheeks as Alex slips through the door to the pub, his work shirt tucked under his arm as his eyes hunt the room for Liam, smiling when he does, walking straight for their booth with a little wave.

“Hey, Li,” Alex smiles when he reaches their table, eyes falling instantly on Liam and never leaving him.  “Sorry I’m late, ran a little over.”  He looks down at the polo shirt under his arm before smoothing down the dress shirt clinging to his body as Liam budges across the booth, creating a space for him.

“Don’t worry about it, you want a drink?”  Liam asks, running his fingers up and down the length of the glass, over the dints the manufacturer made to make the beer inside seem more attractive as he tries to will the colour of his cheeks to fade.

Alex nods, leaving his work shirt by Liam’s side as he walks over to the bar, coming back soon after carrying a half pint of shady, saying he has to work tomorrow and doesn’t want to be so off his face that he doesn’t wake up in the morning.  Liam just nods knowingly and it makes Niall shake his head fondly at his friend: he’s so done for - he’s head over heels already.

They continue to talk; him, Ed, Alex and Liam, once Alex has introduced himself and Niall and Ed have sniffed him out, deemed him good enough for their friend and are laughing together as if they’ve always known each other.

Niall tips his drink back until his drink is empty and Ed’s offering to buy in a round but then Niall frowns, eyes dancing round the table that they’re sat around, noting the empty seats and beer coasters.  “Zayn and Harry aren’t here.”

Liam looks round the table then also, seeing the exact same thing as what Niall has just pointed out and quirking his eyes towards him as he chugs back the dregs at the bottom of his glass. 

“Don’t you dare harass them,” Liam warns as he places his glass back down on the coaster, eyes level with Niall’s own.  “They’ll be here; we’ve only been here like half an hour or so.”

“We’ve been here over an hour,” Ed supplies, looking down at his watch and leaning on the table top, arms crossed in front of himself.  “When did you tell them to get here?”

“Same time as you; eight o’clock.” Niall frowns, pulling his phone out of his pocket and glaring at the screen, willing it reveal a text from either Harry or Zayn, explaining their whereabouts.  “I’ll ring them.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Liam scolds, “They’ll be here.  Give them another half an hour and then you can go batshit crazy at Zayn.”

Niall groans, tucking his phone back inside of his pocket as the four of them engage in conversation again, Ed buying in their next round whilst Alex and Liam smile at each other, eyes soft as they look over each other’s face.

Niall’s eyes flutter over the face of Ed’s watch, willing the hands to move just that little bit faster around the scratched face before he catches Liam’s eyes and he’s shrinking back into his seat like a kicked puppy under Liam’s stare, counting down the last few minutes that add up to the half an hour that Liam is forcing upon him.

“Okay, it’s been half an hour!” Niall says, pulling himself from his seat before Liam can scold him again and is walking outside, trying to get some phone signal so that he can scream at Zayn, before no doubt apologising to his friend and feeling awful for breaking up his and Harry’s night.

Niall lifts his phone to his ear regardless and soon hears the tinny sound of both Harry and Zayn’s voicemails, growls each time he does so, before he flits back into the pub, telling the boys where he’s going and gulping back his drink and wandering out into the cool air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is written but I don't like it, but I promise that I am going to sit here for as long as possible to make it something that I feel comfortable posting and make sure that i don't let you guys down with it. I promise it will be posted either tomorrow or the day after, depending on how my fixing of it goes!
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for getting this story to 2,500 hits (love you all, you have no idea!!) and if there are any mistakes then I take full credit for them. Also, feel free to leave any comments that you have; I love hearing from you guys:)
> 
> -Don't be Silent Readers<3


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for those people that stuck with me, regardless of the 42,000 word wait<3

Niall raps his knuckles quickly on the wood of Harry’s door, leaning against the frame of it as he waits to hear footsteps come towards it and unlock the door.

Though, when he gets none of that, he sighs and squeezes his eyes shut before he begin to rap on the door again - a little bit harder - just to make sure that Harry and Zayn can hear him, for definite. 

“Harry!  Zayn!  Let me in!”

When nobody comes to open the door Niall frowns, slipping his hand into his back jean pocket and hunting for his phone before pulling it from the material, thumb poised over Zayn’s number, ready to tell him to stop being a sod and let him in; just before the door opens and Niall comes face to face with sleep ruffled hair and big, cerulean blue eyes.

“Erm, hello,” Niall cocks his head round the frame before he pulls himself from the doorframe to stand properly in the hallway in front of Harry’s door.  “Is Harry or Zayn in?”

The boy blinks quickly at him before reaching a hand into his hair, ruffling it so that it’s sat atop his head in a messy manner, his mouth dropped and eyes squinting as he tries to take in Niall’s words, processing them carefully, as he leans away from the door, feeling safer the further away he is from the threshold.

“Harry’s in the shower and Zayn went out to the corner shop,” The small male says, voice quiet as if only just plucking up the courage to create the volume of sound that he is doing, making Niall squirm on the spot – is he really that threatening, what with his brown roots poking out to say hello from his scalp?

Niall looks past the small boy, his eyes noting the light peeking out from underneath Harry’s bathroom door and hearing the clatter of water on plastic and skin behind the wood, just down the hall from where he stands, feeling like an outsider in his own friend’s building.  His _best_ friend’s boy _friend’s_ building, if he’s being precise.

“Erm, did you want to come in?  Harry should be out in a few minutes or so.” The small brunette asks, voice nervous as he blushes, ducking his head so that his hair shields his eyes and half of his cheeks as stands pigeon toed inside of Harry’s apartment; and all Niall can do is smile small and follow him inside of the apartment.

“I’m Niall, by the way,” Niall says trying to break the tension that’s strong in the air, threatening to suffocate them if it’s not pushed away quickly whilst he stuffs his phone back into his pocket before he sits down in the armchair in the corner of Harry’s living area, noting the mess of blankets on Harry’s sofa before Louis slips over to nestle within their mixed material huddle.

“Louis,” The boy whispers, small and nervous as he buries himself deeper within the blankets, toes tucking up inside of the mass of material as his eyes flick over towards the hallway, as if desperate for Harry to walk through it, Louis’ Adam’s apple bobbing violently in his throat.

“Nice to meet you,” Louis’ eyes flick back to Niall’s face when he speaks, forcing a smile onto his lips whilst his lower lip trembles lightly before he wraps a blanket around his shoulders, tugging it tightly around himself.

The room falls silent after the words have slipped from Niall’s lips, leaving the air stagnant between them, all but the damp footsteps of Harry as he wanders down the hallway cutting through the silence.

Harry’s jeans slung low on his hips as he rubs at his hair with the towel in his hand, eyes falling on Louis and smiling friendly at him before they traipse across the room onto Niall, his lips stretching across his mouth, exposing his teeth as he grins widely.  “Nialler!”

“Hey, Haz,” Niall smiles as Harry comes over to sit on the sofa with Louis, slinging his arm over Louis’ small shoulders and Niall notes the way Louis sinks into his side, his lips ceasing to tremble at Harry’s contact and presence.  “Thought you were coming out with us?”

“I was - I am, I mean, we are.” He corrects, shaking his hair out of his face, curls sweeping across his forehead as he chuckles at his mistakes.  “Zayn’s just gone out to get some milk from the shop down the road and I was just having a quick shower.  We’re just running a bit late.”

Niall nods in understanding just as Zayn walks into the flat, carrying a bottle of milk in one hand and a smile on his lips when his eyes meet Harry’s as he slips the bolt across the door; a habit he only picked up when he saw the chain dangling by Harry’s door, classing it as the ‘done thing’ to lock it every time he walks in, regardless of whether they’re going to be going out just seconds later. 

“Hey,” Zayn grins, reaching over to stroke a hand through Harry’s damp curls and smile at Louis, getting one in return - a real one - Niall notes.  “Oh, hey, Ni.”

Niall smiles, pulling his legs up to his chest to get comfy in his seat whilst Zayn flutters about Harry’s apartment, finishing up dressing himself whilst Harry reaches for his shirt off of the kitchen table, tugging it over his head.

“Niall’s here to check up on us.” Harry giggles once Zayn and himself are dressed and Zayn’s leant over the back of the sofa, his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“N’awh, Nialler,” Zayn coos.  “You think I actually locked little Hazza here up, did you?” Niall nods, eyes serious as his blood vessels break under the skin, flushing his face and making both Harry and Zayn chuckles whilst Louis looks at them a bit confused. 

“Niall, here, thinks that I don’t let Harry leave his apartment; that I keep him locked up here so that Niall doesn’t get to see him.” Zayn explains for Louis, making him nod his head in understanding and smile nervously.  “He’s a bit strange.”

“I’m not strange!” Niall retorts.  “You’re weird – you draw pictures of Harry, if I remember rightly.” Zayn blushes at the reminder that _Niall_ knows about them, that _Harry_ knows about them now also.

Harry however, just beams, seemingly unaffected by the naked charcoal and pencil sketches of him that Zayn has stored in his bedside cabinet, and just rubs at his boyfriend’s arm, soothingly. 

“And not even nice ones that you can put up in your living room either, if you know what I mean.”  Niall chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows and smiling when he gets the flushed-cheek reaction he was searching for out of Zayn.

Louis laughs quietly; his cheeks flushing lightly when Niall beams at him, loving the fact that he actually got a real smile from the brunette, when he hadn’t actually intended to. 

“Trust me; never go into the second draw of Zayn’s bedside cabinet.” Niall warns, a smile gracing his lips whilst Zayn just scowls, ducking his flushed face into Harry’s neck. “You expect the stuff you don’t want to see to be in the top drawer, but no, Zayn doesn’t like to stick to tradition.”

“I’ll remember that.” Louis smiles, voice not quite as unsure as it was when he first spoke to Niall earlier and Niall literally glows, knowing he’s gotten Louis to warm up to him, hating the reservation people have when he first meets them.

Niall and Louis smile at one another across the room before Louis ducks his head, fidgeting his feet inside of the mess of blankets underneath himself and tugging at the small bracelet laced around his wrist as he gnaws on his lower lip.

“You ready to go then, Zayn?” Harry asks, stroking at the baby hairs at the nape of Zayn’s neck as he tries to pry Zayn’s lips off of his neck, smiling at his boyfriend’s childish whines when he pulls away.

Zayn stands up sadly, Harry’s hand still laced in the short hairs at the back of his head as the pair stand up, watching the way Niall un-tucks his feet from under himself to stand up, casting a look down at Louis and then back up and Harry and Zayn, asking with his eyes why Louis hasn’t moved to stand up also.

“Lou, you sure you don’t want to come?  We’re just off out for a quiet drink in the pub near Niall’s, we’ll be out of town, and me and Zayn will be there at all times and everything, I promise.” Harry babbles, Zayn’s hand tightening around Harry’s shoulder.

Louis squirms when everyone’s attention falls on him, ducking his head down to his chest as he nips at his lower lip, shoulder shrugging robotically.  “I’ve got nothing to wear even if I wanted to, so no, it’s okay.”

“I could lend you some clothes, Lou.” Harry supplies, eyes desperate as he watches Louis raise his head towards him, fear evident in Louis’ eyes but a childish gleam tinting then, inching into his orbs, blacking out the dark depths of nervousness they once held. 

“Well, maybe Zayn could, he’s probably more your size than me, but we’ll find you something.”  Harry chuckles, cocking his head to rest on Zayn’s shoulder and poke at his still rosy cheeks affectionately.

Louis’ lips stretch up into a tight lipped smile as he nods carefully, bunching the blankets up around himself as he slides his feet down to the floor, toes dancing in the fibres of the carpet underneath him as he trails after Harry, down the hallway, no doubt heading down to the end and into Harry’s bedroom.

Zayn watches Harry leave, his eyes communicating something to Harry before he slides onto the sofa, pushing Louis’ blankets to one side as he looks across at Niall, reaching for a lone glass of water on the coffee table’s empty surface. 

“Everyone turn up?” Zayn smirks, as if sensing Niall’s annoyance at his absence and Niall rolls his eyes as the smirk dances up his face, tinting his eyes with their teasing gleam.

“Everyone but you two, yeah.  Even Ed turned up and so did Alex.” Niall says tugging his feet back under himself as he settles back in the armchair, nails catching on a loose thread on the arm of the chair as they wait for Louis and Harry’s return.

“Alex?” Zayn asks, eyes squinting as the thinks about the name, about where he’s heard it from before but frowning at himself when he comes up short, knocking back a mouthful of water in frustration of not being able to remember.

“The guy from Liam’s work,” Zayn’s eyebrows shoot up at that, whilst an impressed smile dances on his lips.  “Liam texted him earlier to see if he wanted to come out and he said he wanted to; because he ‘missed Liam’ and didn’t mind ‘when or where’ he saw him, just so long as he got to see him.” Zayn _awhs_ whilst Niall continues, smiling at the memory of Liam’s jaw-achingly large grin. 

“He came with his work shirt slung over his arm, like he’d just got off work and didn’t care what he wore, just wanted to see Li and Liam was totally smitten.  It was all nauseatingly cute to watch actually; much like you and Harry, really.”

Zayn waves him off as he smiles, eyes shining in happiness as he reaches across the back of the sofa to collect his leather jacket, setting it on his lap as he swings one leg over the arm of the sofa, laying on his back on the cushions. 

“You left Ed as a spare wheel?” Zayn chuckles, wiping mud off of his black boots and smiling when they gleam in the light.

“He’s not a spare wheel, when I left they were going on about Megan,” Zayn’s eyebrows dip into another curve of confusion and Niall just shakes his head fondly at his friend.  “She’s this girl Ed met, he’s also smitten.  It was like a love fest in there!”

Zayn just laughs, toying with the necklaces around his throat and thumbing at the pendants hanging from them just as Harry and Louis come walking back in, Harry’s eyes shining happily before he perches himself on the arm of the sofa, poking at Zayn’s cheeks.

“I present to you the reason why you should not wear this jacket again, Zayn.” Harry smirks as Louis comes into view, his arms lined by light denim, the cuffs and collar distressed where they sit against his tan skin and legs clad tight in black jeans, tucked into scruffy black Converse.  His hair messily coiffed atop his head and his stubble dark against his skin, that was previously looking more scruffy than chic, than it does currently.

Zayn whistles in appreciation, making Louis’ cheeks darken in a blush as he picks at the hem of Harry’s wide-necked white shirt underneath; avoiding Zayn’s approving eyes and scuffing his feet into the carpet, nervously. 

“He looks good, doesn’t he?” Harry grins, flitting across to Louis and tugging him so that he’s twirling for them, a nervous shine in his blue eyes as he awaits their approval, shoulders hunched as he kept his eyes on his feet.

“He looks really good,” Zayn smirks, reaching out a hand to the collar of the denim jacket, poking a finger through one of the holes that line it.  “Don’t you think, Nialler?  Even better than you.”

Niall nods, he does look good.  “Even better than you, actually.” Niall retorts whilst Zayn rolls his eyes and Louis blushes hard under the compliment.  “You should give him the jacket,” Niall stands from his seat in the armchair, moving to sit on the arm of the sofa that Harry was previously occupying. “It never worked for you anyway, looked too tough and rock and roll; you’re more of the reclusive, comic book reading types.”

Harry laughs loud at Niall’s comment, whilst Zayn throws a playful punch at his shoulder, ruffling Niall’s hair with his hand and laughing at Niall’s squeaks of protest, before Harry’s breaking them up and heading towards the door, Louis’ hand in his own as he tugs him through the door, beckoning for Zayn and Niall to follow as he and Louis clatter down the wooden stairs of his apartment building.

“We’d better follow them.” Zayn grins, eyes alive as he watches Harry’s departure down the stairs, locking the front door of the apartment behind them as he hooks his arms inside of his leather jacket, smiling after Harry.

“I think we better had.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you squealed like a little girl, my beautiful cheerleader;)
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:)  
> -Don't be Silent Readers<3


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm disappointed in myself for this.
> 
> http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-thing?.out=jpg&size=l&tid=58063956

Zayn had been slipping his boots onto his socked feet when there had been a knock at the door, the sound so timid and quiet against the thick chunk of wood that Zayn barely related the tapping to a person looking for his attention, until he heard a small cough from outside.

Upon pulling the door open, one shoe still held firmly in his grasp whilst the other sat around his foot, laces undone, as he came face to face with Louis’ sad eyes and a nervous lift to his lips, his body drowned by oversized sleep clothing and a black hoodie. 

“Hey, Lou, you wanna come in?”  Louis nods, tears seeping from his eyes at his movements and dribbling glumly down his face as he steps over the threshold.   
“Cheers, Zayn.”

“Anytime, mate.” Zayn watches Louis as if he’ll break right in front of his eyes, gulping back the urge to hug him, knowing that if he does the banks will burst and Louis will be left a broken, tearful mess in his arms.  “You want something to drink?  We’ve still got some Yorkshire Tea, I think.”

“Yes, please.” Louis whispers, eyes searching the area of Harry’s living room, a small smile creeping onto his lips when he views the picture of him and Harry back when they were still at school displayed on a nearby cabinet top.

He thumbs over the edge of the frame, the wood hard under his fingers as he traces the lines carved into it, the glass protecting the faces that they made at the camera when they had no care in the world and the sun had been beating down hard above them.

“Here you go,” Zayn smiles as he sees the soft tug on Louis’ lips as he guides his eyes over the multiple pictures littering all surfaces of Harry’s home; new and old memories brought lovingly into the present day.  “He told me about that picture, it was more or less the first thing he told me.”

Louis lifts his hand from the frame, admiring it from afar as he watches the creases deepen around Zayn’s eyes as he smiles affectionately at the image displayed.

“It was his screensaver when we first met, the first date we ever went on and he more or less told me everything that there was to know about the photo.” Zayn laughs, sipping at his drink also, the scent of coffee strong in the air.  “About how you’d been on a school trip and had slipped out of the group because you didn’t want to go the museum the school had planned, so had wandered around the market that was on that day, buying whatever took your fancy and got one of the stall holders to take the photo for you.”

Louis looks up at Zayn as he sips at his tea, the liquid scalding his tongue but feeling familiar within his mouth as it goes down his throat, smiling at the memory that Zayn paints in his mind of the simple days, where school was the only thing that held them captive.  “When did you guys meet?”

Zayn grins, thumbing at a photo of him and Harry that has one of Zayn’s simple charcoal sketches slotted inside the frame with it.  “It was back in the bakery he works at.  I’d gone in to get something to eat, because I’d skipped breakfast trying to get into work early enough to get some paperwork finished so that I could get the rest of the afternoon off.”

Zayn smiles at the memory, how the rain had pelted it down just as he exited the office doors and how he hadn’t actually intended to go into the bakery, just chose it because it was closer to his home than the cafe he had initially wanted to visit, before the heavens had opened.

“So anyway, I went in and shook my hair out whilst under the awning outside of the shop, to try and get rid of some of the water from my hair so it wouldn’t be dripping down my neck and Harry had just laughed at me cheekily as he watches me whilst bagging up a loaf of bread for his current customer.” Zayn runs a hand through his hair, as if he’s just completed the motion again, making Louis grin.

“Anyway, whilst he served me his phone went off, I can’t remember who it was but he said he needed to answer it, so he asked if I could move down the counter, to the end where a big glass cabinet of cakes and stuff was, so that he was hidden from his boss and could answer it.  I obviously agreed, I mean, have you _seen_ Harry, he’s like _wow_!” Zayn blushes as he realises he’s said that out loud, flapping his hands and willing Louis to forget he ever said that, whilst Louis cackles, eyes squeezed shut.

“Yeah, erm, so I did and he answered it whilst he pulled this cake from one of the counters, putting his phone on speaker, so that it looked like he was making conversation with me but was still able to answer the call.”

“I just stayed where I was, a little bit in love with the cheeky glint in his eye as his boss came into the front of the shop, checking on the stock of sausage rolls on the other end of the counter and the way he smiled at him and waved him away whilst he continued to keep eye contact with me.”

“And then when the call ended he just grinned lazily at me, like he does, before he reached across the counter, passing me the cake he had pulled from the cabinet and the sandwich that I had ordered, in a paper bag and telling me it was on him.  I tried to fight it, I mean he was giving me free stuff when he was working and didn’t even know me!”

Zayn gnaws on his lip happily as he remembers the charming nature of Harry when they first met, the charm that’s still there, bright and alive in everything and everything that he does.

“But he just told me that I’d make it up to him somehow, and I’d blushed when he reached across the counter to run his hand through my hair, pushing it back off of my forehead and grinning at me like I’d hung the stars in the sky or something, and made a comment on how the cream on the cake he had chosen looked like the blonde streak I had in my hair and that he couldn’t decide which he liked better.”

Louis’ eyes flicker over to a picture of Zayn with his tongue out and a blonde wisp in his hair as he kisses at Harry’s cheek, Harry’s smile wide and dimpled next to one of Harry and his mother when he was little; noting the impact that Zayn’s had on his friend’s life.

“I blushed at his compliment, dropping the money onto the counter for my sandwich regardless and looked out of the shop window, noting the heavy stream of rain that was falling from the sky and shivering at the cold that already clung to my skin.”

“And before I knew it, he was behind me, his hands around my waist as he leant his head on my shoulder, looking out at the rain with me before he whispered in my ear that he’d be off work in ten minutes and then he’d protect me from the rain or something equally as stupid.”  Zayn chuckles around the words before gulping back a mouthful of coffee, licking the taste from his lips.

“I laughed at him, pushing him away from me to keep him dry, as he was still in his work clothes and I didn’t want him to get in trouble or anything, and said that it was okay, but before I could tell him I’d be fine, he was dashing into the backroom and came back out with a large umbrella and grinned at me as I shook my head and ducked under it as we walked down the street to my apartment, talking as if we’d known each other for years.”

 “As we got to my building he was still smiling at me and I didn’t understand it.  I’d never been looked at that before, and it was funny how it happened, but I felt the same for him and smiled back before ducking into my building, watching as Harry stayed stood in the rain, just watching me from under the umbrella with a gleam in his eyes.”

“I walked back out to him and asked him why he wasn’t leaving and he’d said it was because the world held nothing else that mattered to him anymore, and he’d looked so sincere, like he meant it when he looked deep into my eyes that I’d pulled him inside of my building and asked what he had meant.  But he’d just stroked my jaw, eyelashes fluttering before he’d kissed at my jaw and smiled, whispering that I’d find out soon enough; before he turned to leave, leaving his umbrella in my hands as he walked through the rain, back to the bakery.”

“Anyway, I then went up to my apartment, feeling a little rejected, I guess, seeing as Harry had more or less just left me hanging.  Until I opened up the bag that held my food and found a note inside with his number on and a note saying that that he had learnt to like the rain because it had brought me to him, how I’d caught his attention with my hair as I shook it to rid it of the moisture.” 

“It was simple and messily written, but that’s just Harry, he gets the point across in ways that you wouldn’t believe; and here we are.” Zayn lifts his arm up to let Harry duck under it, to feel Harry’s heartbeat against his palm as he lowers it to sit on Harry’s chest.

“It also said that he had made me notice that he was beautiful before I even saw his face, but he always seems to skip that bit of the story.” Harry grins, kissing Zayn’s hand as Louis watches on, entranced by the happiness that Harry’s found for himself.

“You only say that bit to make you look more charming than you already are.” Zayn smiles, running his hand through Harry’s hair and noting that he’s in his dressing gown and not yet showered and frowning at his boyfriend – Niall’s going to be pissed.  “I thought you were showering?”

Harry shakes his head, a smile on his lips.  “Nah, I heard you telling the story and wanted to listen to.”  Zayn grins as Harry blushes, his skin hot under his skin before Zayn kisses his lips chastely.

“You’re always welcome to listen to how you swept me off my feet,” Zayn whispers as he pushes Harry towards the entryway to the hall.  “But now it’s finished, so go get a shower, we need to get ready, we’re already late.”

“Fashionably late,” Harry retorts, sticking his tongue out at Zayn as he stumbles back down the hallway, ducking into the bathroom.

“You’re going out?” Louis bites at his lips sadly, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice. 

Zayn nods his head, slowly before noticing what Louis means with his question.  “We were, but we don’t have to right away, we were just going out for a drink.  You can come with, if you want, unless you want to stay here?  We’ll probably be out for a while though.”

“Can I stay here?  I don’t feel...ready, to go out yet.” Zayn smiles, reaching over to pat Louis’ shoulder in understanding and guide him towards the sofa, pictures abandoned as they settle on the sofa, sipping back their drinks whilst Zayn pulls a pile of blankets from a cupboard and sets them on the arm of the sofa next to Louis.

“In case we’re out for a while,” Zayn explains, patting the stack of material.  “You want another drink, Lou?” Louis nods and Zayn’s back in the kitchen instantly, flicking on the kettle and preparing their mugs.  “I need to go get some more milk; I’ll be back soon, Lou.”

Louis nods obediently, watching Zayn grab his wallet and phone and stuff them in his jean pocket before waving Louis a goodbye and slipping out of the door.

Louis sits in his seat, eyes searching the room for something to do whilst Harry’s in the shower and Zayn’s out at the corner shop but comes up with nothing, so pulls the pile of blankets over himself, preparing his bed for the night. 

His eyes closing as his limbs warm up below the layers, feeling safe with Harry just down the hall as sleep takes him as a willing prisoner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and I swear that there will be more Nouis to come, I just need to find the time to write it! Back at school again, and so all of the teachers have taken to just sending me these little love notes*, asking me to write them essays on the Cold War and on the formation of waterfalls, and such;)
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, then please let me know:)  
> -Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> *homework sheets;)


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel really disappointed in my attempts at Nouis, I'm sorry...

Pushing through the door of the pub, the four of them scan the room, eyes searching down the table containing Liam, Alex and Ed, though their eyes only find the ginger boy as he thumbs at a beer coaster, the other two nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, Ed,” Harry greets, his hand in Louis’ supportively as he tugs him towards the table and into a seat between himself and Niall, Zayn on Harry’s other side.  “Where are Li and his boy-toy?”

Ed laughs at Harry’s phrasing as he points a finger behind the table, over towards the bar.  “Stocking up on drinks; you might want to get yours in now, Alex is ordering.”

Harry nods before kissing Zayn’s cheek and asking what everybody wants, before he’s skipping over to jump on Liam’s shoulders and scare the living daylights out of him, whilst laughing at the horrified rise of his friend’s eyebrows.

“They getting on well?” Niall asks, flicking his wrist towards Liam and Alex who are currently blushing and laughing at Harry’s sudden presence and chatting along with him as the barman prepares their drinks.

“Yeah, really well,” Ed says, lifting his eyes towards the bar and watching the way Alex’s arm sits so close to Liam’s as they lean against the bar, as if wanting to touch but not quite having the confidence to do so. “Liam looks so at ease, which is something I wasn’t expecting; he’s normally a bit of a blundering mess around people he likes, if you know what I mean.”

Zayn and Niall laugh and nod in understanding before they realise that Louis is sat between them, not knowing where to look or put himself.  “Ed, this is Louis,” Ed waves and smiles wide towards Louis. “Louis, this is Ed.” Zayn smiles, introducing them to one another, like two mothers may do their children in order to help them make friends.

“Hey, Lou,” Ed smiles reaching across the table to shake Louis’ hand but Louis just freezes at the movement, eyeing the hand nervously before Ed drops it with a chuckle.  “I wouldn’t shake it either, if I didn’t know where it had been.”

Louis smiles up at Ed’s attempt to look past his strange demeanour.  “Hi, Ed.” He whispers, trusting the smiling ginger instantly, just as his phone starts buzzing and he picks it up with superhuman speed, smiling down at the pixelated words that ‘Megan <3’ sent him.

“It’s his lover,” Niall whispers in Louis’ ear, his breath hot on the shell of it as he smiles around his words, eyes flickering to watch Ed tap happily at the screen of his phone.  “He’s smitten.  Even more so than Haz and Zayn; it’s sickeningly sweet.”

Louis giggles as Ed bats at the back of Niall’s head, telling him to shut up before Zayn’s joining in, hitting Niall’s shoulder with a glare as he refuses to be called sickeningly cute like Ed, demanding something better, more suited to him instead of his runoff the mill comment.

“You _are_ sickeningly cute though.” Niall reasons, rubbing at the back of his head and watching as Alex, Liam and Harry carry over their drinks, placing them down in front of the respective drinker, smiling when Harry hands him his.  “Thanks, Haz.”

“Anytime; now, what are you arguing about?  We could hear you over at the bar!” Harry sips at his drink, froth lining his lip that Zayn’s not ashamed to kiss away in the dim light of the pub, making Harry flush and the other’s around the table groan in protest and flick coasters towards their heads.

“Zayn says that you’re not sickeningly cute.” Ed says, sliding cardboard coasters down the table for them to place their drinks on, keeping one for himself and pulling a pen from his pocket to scrawl a line of text onto it.

Louis eyes him, watching the messy curls of his scrawl line the flimsy cardboard, squinting to try to read what it is he’s inked onto the card. 

“He’s writing a lyric,” Niall whispers into his ear, and when breath hot against his ear felt good and not horrifying, Louis will never know. “He’s a song writer, does it so he doesn’t forget it if he likes it.”

Louis nods, watching how Ed jumps from writing in the square of card to being the life of the conversation that’s taking place around him and chuckling largely at the comments flying around, whilst Louis admires how he taps on the hardwood table, as if creating a melody to float around his newly written lyric.

Louis sips at his drink, listening to the conversations taking place and ducking into Harry’s side each time that a question is placed upon him, as if looking for support as he mumbles his answers, words carefully chosen before he lets them slip past the barrier of his lips.

“Don’t you agree that Liam and Alex are like the same person, Lou?” Harry giggles, slurping back his drink as he leans his head onto Louis’ shoulder – Harry can’t hold his drink well, Louis reminds himself – and making doe eyes at a blushing Liam and grinning Alex.  “They like, finish each other’s sentences and stuff.”

Louis nods obediently, trying to duck from the prying eyes around him and just sip at his drink, his eyes hovering unsure over the edge of the glass as they look across at who he supposes is Alex; they weren’t introduced.

Sucking in a breath, Louis chokes on his drink, the liquid catching the gulp of air he tries to force into his lungs as he blinks rapidly, desperate for his eyes to be playing tricks on him and not presenting him the reason for the black bags hung dramatically under his eyes.

Niall’s hand is on his back instantly, asking Louis if he’s okay whilst he pats at his back trying to stop the choked gasps that are tumbling sadly from Louis’ lips, but Louis can’t respond, can’t hear anything past the heavy beating of his heart in his ears.

“Need some air,” He gasps, rising from the booth and heading towards the door, feeling a hand land on his wrist and slow his movements before he’s out in the darkness; the denim of Zayn’s jacket doing nothing to fend his skin from the bite of the cold night air.

“You okay, Lou?” Harry asks, his hand on Louis’ back and patting it much like Niall had done inside of the pub, though it doesn’t help fight off the tremble of his bones and the near desperate _need_ to get away that throbs in his heart.

“Yeah,” He breathes, pushing the face from behind his eyelids into the night air, wishing for the chill to bite away at the memory, to tear it to shreds.  “Just need to go home.”

“Why?  What’s wrong?” Harry asks, his eyes flicking angrily back at the door that they just exited whilst Louis leans up against the hard bricks behind him, trying to slow his breathing to something of a normal speed.  “Was it something we said?”

Louis shakes his head, squeezing his eyes tight before pulling them back open, eyes meeting the no longer alcohol-clouded ones of Harry, the green of his orbs bright and suddenly sober under the security lamp hanging on the pub wall.

“No, it’s fine, just felt a bit overwhelmed.” Louis lies, hating the look of anger in Harry’s eyes at his friends when they’ve done nothing wrong; well most of them haven’t, anyway.

Harry’s eyes soften as he pulls Louis into his arms, hands tight as they land on his back and he holds Louis to his chest, his heartbeat communicating with Louis’ and subconsciously willing it to decelerate.

“They’re good guys,” Harry smiles, assurance in his voice as he fists the back of Zayn’s jacket, feeling just how small Louis actually is now inside of the tough exterior the material provides.  “They wouldn’t intentionally do something knowing it would hurt you or your feelings.”

Louis sucks in a breath, biting at his tongue and pulling his lips into a crumpled pile on his face, his mind _screaming_ that he knows different, that Harry knows different, but just doesn’t _quite_ know it yet.  That when he finds the necessary pieces and puts two and two together that he will see how that statement is a blatant lie; rape is intentional.

Blinking swiftly Louis ducks his eyes and nods, feeling Harry’s smile roll off of his lips before he’s tugging Louis back into the pub, grinning as they sit down and jumping straight back in the conversation, his hand on Louis’ knee as he squeezes it occasionally throughout the night.

“You okay?” Niall whispers, ducking his mouth behind his drink to ask the question, as if feeling the uneasiness rolling from Louis’ body and knowing that he doesn’t want his distress to be known by all.

Louis nods, small and quick before pulling his lips into a sad smile and crumbling under Niall’s gaze and squeaking a timid, “No,” that makes Niall frown and pull Louis closer to his side, hooking an arm over his shoulder and rubbing small circles into his collarbone, exposed by Zayn’s oversized shirt, Niall’s attention solely on Louis, waiting for him to speak.

“You want to go?” Niall whispers as Louis sniffles, trying to keep himself composed, but feeling the heavy weight on his shoulders crush all the energy he had created to be able to succeed this night; to be able to do something other than lock himself in his apartment as he scratches at his skin to get rid of all traces of _him_ and throw up at the mere thought of food.  “You seem a bit upset.”

Niall doesn’t seem to need to hear a verbal answer to his question however and is gulping back his drink instantly, nudging Louis’ own towards him in a silent attempt to get him to do the same, but Louis just shakes his head, defeated, and pushes it to Niall who chugs it back with a smile. 

Louis chuckles when Niall shows him a deliberate foam moustache on his top lip and wiggles his eyebrows, and it gives Louis the extra push to stay, hand pushing Niall back down into his chair when he starts to rise from it, whispering that it’s okay to stay, with a smile, a real one, may he add.

Niall smiles, knocking his knuckles against Louis’ on the tabletop and asking if he’d like another drink, completely ignoring everyone else at the table, before he’s heading to the bar with his and Louis’ order fresh in his mind.

“You’re getting rather close,” Harry giggles, his arm around Zayn’s shoulder as he talks and the sober look that hung in his eyes not ten minutes is earlier is drowned in the bubbles of the alcohol in his system.

Louis shrinks under his friend’s playful gaze and just shrugs his shoulders, hiding his eyes until Niall’s slipping back in next to him and there’s a surprise straw in his requested orange juice, something no one but him seems to ever do – Harry chuckles at him every time he grabs one to drink the beverage.

Louis smiles as he plays with the end of it, watching the others converse around him and their cheeks redden in the heat of the pub, though avoiding looking at Alex, knowing that there may be more than just nightmares that haunt him if he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know. Don't be Silent Readers<3


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you finished your paper in time, beautiful<3 Here's something to remind you that life shouldn't have to revolve around essays:)

Alex gets up to leave not much later, tipping his glass back to drain it of the final contents of shandy that have collected at the bottom of the glass.  “Right, I’m going to have to call it a night,” Alex says, pulling back the sleeve of his shirt to eye the watch laced around his wrist sadly.  “I’ve got work tomorrow morning.”

Liam stares at Alex, eyes sad as Alex pulls himself from Liam side, putting space between them as he hooks his work shirt over his arm and smiles at Liam, poking out his finger to tap Liam on the nose.  “Smile, Li.  Frowns don’t suit you; you look far to puppy-like.”

Liam’s brow crinkles before he’s nipping at the end of Alex’s finger in retaliation, eyes shining when Alex laughs at him and just pets his head, wishing him a goodbye before turning to face the amused faces of the other people at the table, grinning at them like he doesn’t give a shit.

“I’ll maybe see you all again sometime?” Alex says, hand dropping to rest on Liam’s shoulder and Liam watches him with such _admiration_ that his heart aches with the affection that he shows towards the dark haired male.

“Yeah, mate.”  Zayn grins, hooking his arm over Harry’s shoulder and tugging him closer to his side as Harry sips at the fresh beer in front of Zayn cheekily.  “S’been good, have a good day at work.” 

The sarcasm laces Zayn’s words perfectly as he speaks them and the whole table laughs at Alex’s groan of protest as he mutters a _yeah, yeah_ before he’s out of the door and a puff of breath dances frantically along the foam of Niall’s beer.

Niall flicks Louis a questioning look as his small shoulders slump and he leans back deeper into the leather seat of the booth, bringing his drink to his mouth and sipping it through the straw quickly.

“You okay, mate?” Harry asks, twisting his head to watch the frantic gulping of orange juice down Louis’ throat, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down under the thin skin stretched tight across his friend’s throat.

Louis nods, his eyes warm and losing their nervous gleam that they once held as he turns to face his friend and the crease in Harry’s brow is instantly wiped from his face, leaving it smooth and crinkle-free before he smiles and his dimples pop out of his cheeks, framing his grin.

“Good, I’m glad.” Harry breathes, reaching over to squeeze Louis’ shoulder before he’s flicking his eyes over to Ed, asking how his recent gig had gone and falling into the conversation easily, words that Louis doesn’t understand slipping from between their lips and floating across the hardwood table in front of them.

The conversation stays light and Louis actually gets involved; cracking jokes and witty remarks that make Harry _glow_ like a supernova in the dim light of the pub, until they’re being kicked out, tipping back their drinks to get their money’s worth, before abandoning them on the sticky bar top and stumbling out into the night, as the owners lock up after them.

“Twas a good night,” Ed hiccups as he leans on Liam’s shoulder, the pair of them slightly woozy on their feet as they trek into the darkness together, the other boys following closely behind them.  “We should do it again sometime.”

“Anytime that I have a full weekend off, we will.  I will make sure of it!” Liam cheers into the dark of the night, head thrown back as the multiple glasses of beer take their toll on his body and mind, leaving him heavy against Ed’s side as they head home.

“Li, shush, yeah?” Zayn asks as he holds Harry around the waist, keeping Harry’s gangly limbs that threaten to trip the both of them up in check as he eyes the blacken windows, knowing that sleeping humans do not like to be woken up by rowdy drunks.  “People are asleep.”

Liam pouts, turning round to look sadly at Zayn as he twists his arm through Ed’s making it sit in the crook of his ginger friend’s elbow until they reach his door, dropping him off with overly affectionate drunken hugs, before delving deeper into the night.

Ed is next to leave the group, slipping inside of his own home’s front door and waving from his bedroom window at the boys before seemingly dropping down into his bed, making the remaining boys chuckle fondly into the air, the night chill as it winds around their ill-dressed limbs.

They seem to wander down winding passages and bright-lit streets for hours until they come across the red brick of Niall’s apartment building, Louis’ eyes dancing over the towering structure as Niall moves away from him, his pale skin no longer a heat source against Louis’ tan arm as they walk; leaving him feeling cold and desperate as Niall waves goodbye, coming up to pull each of them into a tight hug.

“Night, Lou.” Niall whispers, abiding by Zayn’s rule of not talking in more than a whisper until they’re out of residential areas – he _knew_ it was a trick when the only places that they walked through contained houses or apartment buildings, but his drunken mind lied to him and told him to acknowledge the request, trusting Zayn.

“Was nice meeting you, maybe see you again, yeah?” Louis nods, breathing down Niall’s neck as he’s pulled into a tight hug, savouring the feel of a human against his skin again, someone that isn’t Harry or Zayn, anyway.  “We could text!”

Niall slaps his hand over his mouth, instantly acknowledging his mistake at his excited outburst, whilst Louis just breaths out a laugh, nodding his head.  He likes Niall.

“Can I have your number, please?” Niall whispers, hiding his mouth behind his hand in a failed attempt at a whisper that makes Harry grin and Zayn roll his eyes affectionately in his direction.

Niall doesn’t even wait for a reply, simply slipping his phone into the small palm of Louis’ hand, the screen bright as it blasts at Louis’ eyes, making him blink rapidly until his eyes focus and he’s tapping in his number, adding his name to the contact and passing the phone back to the buzzing blonde man.

“Cheers!  Night, mate; sleep well.” Niall slurs before he’s walking backwards into his building, surprisingly steady on his feet, as his eyes stay locked on Louis, regardless of his drunken state, up until he has to go up the stairs of his building to his flat, frowning at them before he’s waving excitedly at a blushing Louis and turning to run up his stairs.

“Someone has a crush.” Harry chuckles, reaching across Zayn’s body to poke at Louis’ cheek, pulling his finger back and blowing at it exaggeratedly.  “You’re on fire, Lou!  That blush of yours is red hot.”

Louis’ cheeks darken under Harry’s teasing before said curly haired boy drops the matter and is crawling into Zayn’s arms, begging to be carried back to the apartment, eyes slipping closed as his looming hangover gets ready to invade Harry’s body. 

And really, who can say no to Harry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that was okay, or as close to okay as it could have been anyway.
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own, if you have any comments, please let me know:)  
> -Don't be Silent Readers<3


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry to those reading this now, I must have uploaded the chapters wrong:( I'm so so sorry<3 I'm so embarrassed by this:(

Harry drunkenly persuades Louis to stay over at his flat that night, Zayn smirking as he keeps his boyfriend on his feet, knowing that the curly haired boy had forgotten that he had already told Louis to stay the night before they had even left for the pub earlier that night.

“See, I’m a good friend,” Harry beams before Zayn’s walking from the kitchen and pushing a glass of water into his large hands and gesturing for him to drink it. 

He downs it instantly as he sits next to the sofa on the carpet, his back against the front of it as Louis looks down upon him from his nest of blankets atop the sofa cushions.  “I’m giving you my sofa and everything; that is _true_ friendship.”

Zayn chuckles, scratching his blunt fingernails along Harry’s scalp, fingers catching in little ringlet curls as they twist around his fingers, almost beckoning his hand to stay there for the rest of eternity.

“C’mon, Haz.” Zayn smiles, taking the now empty glass from Harry’s hands and placing it in the sink inside the kitchen.  “Bedtime.  Leave Lou alone; he needs sleep as much as you do.”

“I don’t _need_ sleep,” Harry grunts, frustrated and endearingly clumsy as he shuffles along the living room floor, falling into Zayn’s arms before he steadies himself and reaches for the doorframe, leaning heavily against it.  “Sleep needs me.”

“Sleep does need you, Haz.” Zayn grins, walking after the tall boy and squeezing his fingers into the bottom of his spine.  “Now, maybe you should go to sleep, huh?  Make it happy.”

“I want to make you happy,” Harry pouts, turning away from his bedroom door to trip into Zayn’s arms again; his arms laced around Zayn’s shoulders as he kisses at Zayn’s mouth chastely, brain tired and intoxicated.  “And Lou happy.”

Louis watches as Zayn folds under Harry’s words, said raven-haired male reaching his hand out to trace along Harry’s jaw, fingertips merely ghosting over Harry’s pale skin as Zayn’s caramel eyes melt in the swirls of emerald.

“You always make me happy, Hazza Bear.” Harry dips his head to nuzzle at Zayn’s hand, closing his eyes at the touch, a smile breaking across his lips as Zayn’s hand trails up his face, fingers swirling into his hair.  “You simply being you makes me happy, Haz.  So go to sleep and I’ll even come and cuddle you to make you happy, okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry yawns, pulling away from Zayn and not turning back, as he fumbles his feet along the hallway, calling a sleepy, “Goodnight.”, into the apartment as he pulls the door of his bedroom open, slipping inside; the springs of his bed creaking sadly, as he no doubt just dropped himself fully-clothed onto it.

Zayn grins after Harry’s receding form, reaching up to ruffle his own hair tiredly.  “He gets a bit cuddly and affectionate when he’s drunk, as you no doubt already know.” Zayn chuckles, his attention being switched onto Louis.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him worse than that.”  Louis grins.  “We shared a taxi home one night - completely off our faces - and he refused to sit on the seat,” Louis chuckles, eyes shining.  “Ended up sat on my lap all the way there, stroking my face and telling me I had lovely cheekbones or something equally as Harry-esque.  I also had to pay the driver extra because he believed we were ‘making a mess of his back seat’!”

“That sounds like my Harry.”

Louis grins as he sits up on the sofa’s cushions, the blankets around him bunching up as he fidgets into an upright position.  “Your Harry?”

Zayn flushes, his shoulder hunching defensively before his head ducks down between them; but that does nothing to hide the splash of colour the tips of his ears receive from being picked up on his choice of words. 

“Don’t worry, Zayn.”  Louis reassures, smile on his face for Harry’s benefit, knowing that if he was here right now he’d be absolutely _glowing_ with happiness, his smile wide on his lips.  “It’s cool; I was just making sure that I had heard you right.”

“You did,” Zayn says, lifting his face to reveal the nervous smile gracing his lips and the remnants of his blush dancing high in his cheeks.  “He’s not just Harry to me anymore, he’s something more, something that I can’t quite explain when drunk.”  He chuckles, eyes shining as he bites at his lower lip.

Louis nods, understanding exactly what Zayn means; how he wants to be able to describe Harry accurately and not cut short or make up why he feels what he does for Harry, wanting to present Harry precisely, in a way that Harry deserves.   That he wants to be able to say it and mean it without needing the liquid confidence to make it possible to roll of his tongue.

“You’re a good guy, Zayn; knew I liked you when Harry asked you if you’d meet me,” Zayn’s eyes focus in on Louis’, eyebrow raised, unsure, as he waits for more words to slip from Louis’ lips to enlighten him of what Louis means.

“You kept your eye on him literally the whole time when I first met you; I genuinely couldn’t tear you away!” Louis chuckles.  “You just kind of watched him, y’know?  Took everything in, stored it like it meant the world to you, and that’s all that I really needed to see,”

Louis closes his eyes, exhaustion catching up on him, but desperate to finish his story, to let it out for once, to let people in that he trusts so that he can keep everyone else away.

“I asked Harry if I could meet you, y’know?”  He continues, head leant back against the back cushion of the sofa and he can hear the shuffle of Zayn’s feet as he drops into one of Harry’s wooden dining chairs that he brought from Cheshire, a gift from his grandma when he first left home. 

“It wasn’t just an out of the blue, Harry thing.  It was a protective, best friend thing because I wanted to know who the magical Zayn that he always gabbled on about was.  I wanted to see why he smiled at the mere mention of your name and when a song you liked came on the radio and shit like that,”

“I wanted to know that if Harry had fallen in deep, that he had someone that would have taken the fall with him and be ready and waiting to catch him at the bottom.” Louis licks at his lips, tasting the tang of orange juice from earlier in the cracks.  “I know that sounds really poetic, but it’s true.  I wanted to meet you to see if you were good enough for Harry; and you are.”

“I am?” Zayn whispers, Louis’ eyes opening slowly as Zayn whispers the words into the air, his voice low and unsure of the words that fall from his tongue.

“You are.” Louis assures and Zayn’s cheeks darken under the burn of his blood beneath his cheeks at how Louis is able to just say the words, as if they’re true, as if they mean what they say.

Louis sucks in a breath, tongue pressed to the back of his teeth: he needs to say this.   _Knows_ he needs to say this, even if Harry always says it’s fine; but Louis knows, he knows how this hurts Harry, what he’s going to say and how Harry just covers it up with a half-hearted smile because he can’t manage anything more.

“Harry always says that you can’t see the good in yourself, but you need to, okay?” Zayn sucks in a breath, the air whooshing into his lungs as if those words took him by surprise and if he was in Zayn’s position he knows that they’d take him by surprise to, but Louis storms on anyway, needing to say this regardless of the outcome. 

“You need to see it and I don’t know why you don’t, and it’s none of my business, I know, but you need to.  You need to understand that you’re good enough for Harry.  _I_ know you are and you’re the _only_ person that he’s ever been with that I’ve said that about.”

“I am?” Zayn mumbles, eyes wide and nervous as if they’re back on that lunch date that Harry organised for them to meet; for the two people he needed in his life to meet, that took place all those months ago, and it’s as if Louis is still the wrecking ball that can either pull down or help to build up his paradise.

“You are.” Louis sinks into the blankets around himself, mind shutting down as Zayn grins across at him, lifting himself from his seat to run his fingers through Louis’ hair, pulling it away from his eyes and off of his forehead.  “Night, Zayn.”

Zayn watches him with shining eyes as Louis smiles up at him, eyes fluttering shut as he battles against sleep to keep them open, his head lolling to the side to prove just who won the battle was.  “Night, Lou.  Sleep well.”

Zayn walks over to the front door to lock it, switching off all of the lights and preparing Harry’s apartment for night time, before as he heads down to Harry’s room, turning back to watch a peaceful smile set up camp on Louis’ lips as sleep takes him hostage, huddled under a mass of mix-matched blankets and smiles knowing that Louis is going to get a good night’s sleep; finally.

He watches Louis until Harry’s soft snores lull him away and he’s slipping in next to Harry’s warm body under his duvet cover, his hand on the curly haired boy’s hip as his eyes close and his mouth turns up into a content smile, pulling Harry into the hug he promised him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling really uninspired at the minute, so I'm sorry again.
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you want to:)

 The days pass by in a blur around Louis, having barely left his flat unless he needed to, Harry coming round after work some nights to check that Louis is okay; that’s he’s eaten and showered and drank something other than his own saliva every time he stops by.

Louis’ eyes try to focus on the game show that’s presenting itself onto the screen of his small TV in his bedroom, the colours warped slightly as he needs to change the settings, but he leaves that to another day as he’s wrapped up in his sheets, lovely and warm as he wills away the current heaviness in his heart.

The presenter of the programme is far too happy and enthusiastic to actually be like that in real life, Louis decides, watching the fake arch of his smile as he talks to the contestants, almost patronising them as they tell him why they need to win the money that the show’s offering them the chance to receive. 

Not that Louis can judge, he used to be like that; bouncing off the walls at the smallest of things and laughing at the simplest of actions.  Though he’s never smiled like that before, with a devilish twitch of his lips and sins dancing in his eyes, like he’s ready to pounce on unsuspecting prey.

That is, until his phone buzzes by his bedside table on Wednesday evening, forcing him to drag his eyes from the bright cartoons that are now dancing across the screen after he switched the channels at the adverts, reminding him of when life was all about making sure you’d watched that day’s cartoons so you could keep up with the chatter about their plots at school during lunch break with your friends.

‘Hey, Lou!  It’s Niall, hope you got home okay on Saturday :) Forgot I had your number :( hope you’re okay!’ Louis reads, his eyes hidden behind his glasses as he takes in the words, his breath hitching in his throat.

Niall has his number.

He gave Niall his number.

Louis sits up from under his covers, hands making white fists in the duvet as he tries to slow his rapid heartbeat, stop the blood pulsing in his ears. 

It’s fine.  Everything’s fine.  Niall’s nice.  I know Niall, Louis thinks, his breathing slowing into mere puffs of air as he wipes his sweaty palm on the legs of his baggy jogging bottoms.  I trust Harry to know good people that I can trust.

Alex.

Louis’ face whitens when he thinks of the name, the way Alex’s hair had covered his eyes, hidden the fire that hid inside of them; the fire that licks at Louis’ mind and haunts his dreams every night.

The reason for the police report on his coffee table and the ache in his bones where the bruises had sunken below the skin; healing but not yet healed. 

The ache that had tormented his body upon every foot fall, the pain that had rocketed up his limbs and back down, pulses of white-hot pain that had ignited under his skin upon every movement. 

The bruises that sat atop his skin, blemishing the once clear, smooth surface that is still speckled by clinging bruises and tiny cuts and grazes, from when he’d been chucked to the floor after his brief stand against the rough of the wall in the darkness of the alley; feeling every inch of the rips along his skin.

Louis runs into the bathroom, clenching his hands around the seat of the toilet as he retches sadly into the porcelain bowl, feeling the life be drained from his body upon every heave; after every gut clenching spasm of his stomach and the raw ache at the back of his throat as he lets tears trickle down his face; reminders of how broken he really is.

The tiles are cold underneath his bum as he slumps down, legs weak due to lack of food, water and movement and collapsing beneath him as he leans against the shower cubicle, glass chill against his hot flesh as he breathes in through his nose.

His tears slow to mere splatters of water to the tiles below him as he rocks back and forth on the smooth coolness below, hearing the loud boom of televisions and radios from the flats above and below him, hearing the normality he’s no longer allowed to experience, thrust itself in his face.

The light laughter of the Addison family in the below, as they settle down to watch Catchphrase, their constant shouts of guesses and laughter at incorrect answers going straight to his heart, piercing it with every tinkle of a laugh that emits itself into his ears.

Mr Burton above him, no doubt watching TV in his smoky living room as his cigarette smoulders down to the butt, lightly cursing each time it burns his fingers but still lighting up another and forgetting it’s between his fingers until the embers scold his fingertips once again.

Then there’s Ellie Nelson next door, in her tiny one bedroom flat, probably pottering around her small kitchen and baking new treats to try at her cookery class at the school she works at, leant over the table when she has a moments peace to scribble down little improvements to the recipes she’s going to get her classes to follow the next day.

They all have normality, Louis thinks, feeling the sour taste of tears dip into the cracks in his lips again, the orange juice that was once caught in the nooks and crannies long gone, as his eyes begin to once again shed more tears, leaving him broken and feeling the remnants of bruises pulse below his skin as he sags sadly on his bathroom floor.

“I’m okay.” He says as he stands up from the floor, feeling the fight drop out of him as his ears block out the everyday sounds of normality around him as he slips back into his bedroom, shutting the door and turning off the light as he slides under the covers.

‘Got home okay, thanks.  Hope your okay.’ He types back, heart hammering: he’s doing this; he’s trusting a person that he knows he probably shouldn’t. Not yet anyway.  When all he knows is that Niall is nice and was happy enough to leave his friend’s last night at the drop of a hat.

His fingers pause over the send button before he’s tapping away at the screen again, eyes bleary as sleep tugs at his mind, deleting all of the previous words from his message and typing back a short response, to keep Niall away. 

‘I’m okay.’

That might just be the biggest lie he’s ever told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:)  
> -Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Also, feel free to check out my other work, if you want to:)


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close to 3,000 hits and this story has 50 KUDOS!! Wow. Just wow. You're all wicked; my lovely Silent Readers and my beautiful cheerleader<3 I love you all<3

‘I’m okay.’

Niall frowns at the sharp response from Louis, noting how the words stand out and contrast against the friendly Louis that his mind remembers from Saturday night.  The Louis that seemed to squirm under the warm glare of the pub’s lights above their table, let alone the people that conversed with him throughout the night.

Niall’s mind races, thinking of things that he may have done to upset Louis, but coming up with nothing other than drinking his drink back in the pub, but Louis had more or less told him to do so and he’d laughed at Niall when he did it, so it couldn’t be that, could it?

Niall’s eyebrow furrow at his masses of thoughts, dropping his phone on his kitchen table and wandering around his flat; picking up his clothes for work the next day from the floor of his bedroom and setting them on the chair in his bedroom before slinking deeper into the small flat, looking for things to do before he slips himself into bed for an early night.

His phone lays stagnant on the small table, no buzzing of a new message or call pining for him when he re-enters the kitchen to clean the few pieces of cutlery and plates that he had used that day.

Mum would be proud, he smirks, whilst he scrubs at the plates, cleaning them quickly as he flicks on the radio, letting the sounds grace his ears as he hums along with them, head bobbing along with the beat and determining his scrubbing rhythm.

Once all of the items are clean and settled on the draining board to dry, and there’s nothing else to occupy Niall’s mind, his eyes fall on the scratched silver of his phone in the artificial light of his small kitchen and he bites at his tongue nervously.

I never get nervous, he scolds himself as he rolls his eyes at his lack of back bone, before he’s pulling the cool metal of his phone into his hands and typing out a message to Zayn, knowing that Harry would have been more off his face than Niall would have been on Saturday, so there’s no point in asking him.

‘Did I do something to Louis on Saturday?’

Niall chews on his thumb nail as he settles himself in the rickety chair in his kitchen, socks battling to keep the cool of the tiled floor from his feet as he waits for a response that doesn’t come. 

He sighs, Zayn’s useless at replying to texts; he still needs to reply about dying Niall’s hair, now that he thinks about it. 

He runs his hand over his face, the palms of his hands pressing into his eye sockets as the night draws out beyond his window, the sky outside lit up by the bursts of light from the city far away in the distance.

He hoists himself from his chair when he doesn’t get a response after 10 minutes, deeming Zayn useless due to his fascination with a certain curly-haired male who no doubt currently has all of his attention.  And really, Niall wouldn’t dream of competing with that, he cares about Zayn too much to get in the way of that.

‘You just asked for his number, got a bit touchy, but that’s just you, isn’t it, Nialler ;)’

Niall throws his head back in a whine just as he pulls his toothbrush from his mouth, the froth dancing around his teeth and gums as he reads Zayn’s message, reminding him of how the foam from Louis’ drink on Saturday had settled on his upper lip.

‘How touchy?’

Zayn seems to want to make him suffer as he doesn’t receive a reply until he’s tugging a baggy shirt over his head and boxer shorts up his legs, dropping into his bed, just as Zayn’s message lights up the darkness of his bedroom.

‘I’ve seen - and felt - worse ;)’

‘That doesn’t help anyone, Zayn.’

Zayn’s no doubt laughing at his response, probably showing the message to Harry as they’re wrapped up in each other on Harry’s sofa, feeding each other M & M’s and smiling dopily in a ‘thank you’ as they chew on their sweets, making  each boy’s eyes glitter as they laugh at Niall’s misfortune.

‘You didn’t avoid any human contact but you didn’t have your hand down his trousers, to give you an idea.’

Well that helps no one, Niall thinks, reaching over onto his bedside table to throw his phone back onto it, grumbling at the friends that he has as the metal of his phone _thumps_ against the surface, reaching over to check it’s okay before returning to his aim of ignoring it, arms crossed over his chest.

‘Your ‘ideas’ are stupid.’

‘You’re stupid.’

Niall rolls his eyes at Zayn, regardless of the fact that said boy can’t see him, it’s a habit he picked up off of Harry’s friend Nick when they met back when Zayn and Harry were initially just getting to know each other and hadn’t dared look at each other too dreamily.  Seems that period is long gone now, though, Niall smiles just at the thought.

‘You just hugged him I think?  Why, what’s up, Nialler?’

Niall can’t think of the way to say ‘what’s up’ over text, can’t even think of what actually is ‘up’, as Zayn puts it. 

He can’t think of what he actually _did_ wrong or even if he has done anything wrong, really.  Louis might just not like to text, or something.  Who’s he to judge, though?  He isn’t an overly big fan of talking on the phone; hates the crackle of people’s voices as they travel via the satellites high up in the sky down to his ear drum.

‘Nothing, just wondering.  Night Z :)’

He turns his phone off then, knowing that Zayn knows him inside out and will be asking him questions for the rest of the night if he doesn’t turn it off and stop the buzzing of Zayn’s messages until he turns it back on in the morning, and he really does need to sleep as he has work first thing in the morning.

Though that fact is deemed to be a lousy excuse by his mind, which continues to dance over the words that litter his screen under Louis’ name, feeling the sharpness of each word as his brain pictures them.

“I’m okay” He whispers into the ever darkening inky blackness of his room, reciting Louis’ earlier words, eyelids sliding over his pupils as the moon begins to fall in the sky, the sun starting to lick away the charcoal staining the sky.  “Then how come you don’t sound it, Lou?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this was okay? Let me know what you thoughts are so far and any improvements that you'd like me to make. I want to write a story that you want to read and enjoy as well, so let me know!
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own:)
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you want to, that is<3


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm stuck in a rut at the minute - not going to lie - I haven't quite figured out where this story's going yet, which is rather stupid of me.

Niall avoids turning his phone on, just _knowing_ that there are multiple worried texts waiting for him if, and when, he grows a pair and turns it on.

He doesn’t grow a pair, fearing for the hundreds of worried emoticons that Zayn has no doubt attached to his endless streams of messages, their aim to make Niall crumble and let Zayn in. 

But he won’t give in that easily.

He slides into his swivel seat at work, smiling half-heartedly at his customers as he scans their streams of items, barely registering Greg at his side when Niall’s shift ends, tapping at Niall shoulder to dismiss him for his break.

The gap his break leaves in his work makes his fingers twitch as the heavy weight of his phone in his pocket grows, an unnatural heat bursting from its endless electronic parts the longer that Niall ignores it.

He pours himself back into his seat at the checkout merely three minutes into his break, dismissing the questioning look that Greg gives him when he tells him that he doesn’t need the break today and that Greg can have it instead. 

“You sure, mate?” Greg asks, a smile toying with his lips as he no doubt thinks of the extra time off that he’s getting without a drop in his pay.  Niall nods, tapping in his code on the tills keypad so that he can serve the old man in front of his checkout, loading his goods onto the conveyor.  “Thanks mate, I owe you one.”

Niall just waves him off and gets back to smiling at his customers and making small talk with them that earns him occasional tips and happy smiles from the people he serves, before they leave him alone again in his small little world, shopping bags heavy in their hands as they slip from view.

The clock seems to sprint its way around the clock face, ending Niall’s shift quicker than he feels it ever has, and his boss smiles and waves at him as he passes Niall’s till before he himself leaves into the cool night air of the shop, going home to his wife and three daughters once again.

Niall tugs off his name badge, setting it on the small table in the staff room as he pulls his hoodie up his arms, zipping it around himself as he walks through the shop, passing the few people that are completing their shopping before the shop closes for the day.

He smiles at his work colleagues as they begin to trickle away from their respective departments into the staff room he just exited, preparing themselves for the journey home through the thick darkness that has fallen around the shop outside.

He allows his eyes to fall over the large displays that his colleagues have put together, watching the enticing 50% OFF, BUY ONE GET TWO FREE and WAS £20 NOW £14 jump out at him, but doing nothing to draw him in, due to the fact he doesn’t like cabbage, has more than enough conditioner and Bailey’s Irish Cream makes him retch.

He continues his descent down the aisles, his eyes catch the small, glossy, electric blue box before they notice the large REDUCED TO CLEAR sign above them, making Niall smile as he feels his wallet’s comforting weight in his back pocket.

 He reaches out to grab the few boxes that are left off of the shelves, along with a ready meal for one that takes his fancy and tucking them all under his arm.

 He makes a bee line for the tills, setting his items on the nearest conveyor and watching them as they trail along the length of it, rocking robotically when the conveyor stops and starts as the cashier picks the customer in front’s items up to scan them.

He quickly adds up his shopping’s total in his head, counting his change in the hope to get rid of some of the heavy weight that it creates inside the worn leather of his wallet. 

“Hey, Nialler.”

Niall flicks his eyes up to meet the soft eyes of Jade as she scans his items, slipping them into bags as she scans each one.  “Hey, Jade.”  He grins, reaching across to start packing his own bags to alleviate the job from her.  “Good day?”

“Yeah,” She smiles.  “Not too bad, I’m off in a bit, so that’s good!” She places a book of coupons inside of his carrier bag, but not after scanning one for him, that consequently lowers his total cost of shopping from over £6 to under £4.  “How was yours?”

“Thanks,” He taps the cover of the voucher magazine before passing across his change for her to count and drop into the necessary compartments within the till’s drawer.  “It was okay, I guess.  It didn’t drag, which is always a good thing.”

“I know what you mean,” She flicks her eyes over Niall’s shoulders to read the clock hung high on the far wall, watching the hand’s fall around the face of it.  “But it’ll be good to get home and get into bed, y’know?  It’s too cold to be anywhere else recently.”

Niall chuckles as she strokes her hand over her forearm, the hairs standing on end just at the idea of how cold it is. 

“It wasn’t too bad the other day,” He says, thinking back to the day when he didn’t need to wrap himself up in a coat to walk to work. “It was quite warm; to say we’re in like, the middle of winter.”

“I guess you’re right,” She frowns, looking out into the night from her seat behind her till, clicking her nails against the till screen to get it to process Niall’s receipt.  “But my view is, that if it’s going to be this cold, then it’s got to snow to make up for it.  Snow is the only good thing that comes with the cold.”

“Yeah,” Niall agrees, nodding along with her idea: she is right after all.  “It might also get us a few days off work, depending on how heavy it is.  Now that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” He smirks, making Jade laugh and slap at his arm.

“The boss might her you!” She scolds in a whisper, flicking her eyes around the shop, as she tries to keep her laugh locked between her glossy lips and hunt down their boss in the process.

“He went home earlier, saw him leave,” Niall reassures, laughing whilst Jade rolls her eyes playfully.  “Anyway, got to get off, want to be home before the snow storm comes.”

The elderly woman at the end of Jade’s conveyor’s ears perk up at Niall’s words, her eyes widening as she takes in the words. 

“There’s going to be a snow storm?” She croaks, putting her basket down to empty her items, fingers wrapped tight around a loaf of bread; as if debating whether to go and get another one in case of the impending ‘snow storm’.

“No, Ma’am,” Jade says, voice soft as she speaks to the old woman, starting to scan and bag up her items, glaring at Niall for confusing the woman.  “My friend, here, has been in Spain for the last three years so doesn’t understand what an English Winter feels like anymore.”

The old woman smiles understandingly, wrinkles rising in her skin as she grins.  “I don’t know why you bothered going to Spain if you sat inside all of the time,” She frowns, addressing Niall as her frail hand falls on Niall’s bicep.  “I’d have been out getting a tan to show off, not come back pasty.”

Jade laughs whilst the woman looks between her and Niall, unsure of what’s made Jade laugh like a maniac.

 “That’s what I told him too!  Pasty, young fellow, aren’t you, Niall?” Niall glares at his friend’s words as she rattles off the woman’s total cost, waiting patiently as she counts out her pennies to pay for her few items.

“Bye, Jade.” He rolls his eyes, deciding to leave the conversation before he’s insulted again, though Jade continues laughing at him when he walks away from the counter without his purchases and has to go back to pick them, cheeks flaming and avoiding her gaze.

“Bye, Nialler.” She chuckles as he leaves, pulling his jacket tighter around himself as he wishes he hadn’t taken the late shift, hating the shadows that appear in her vision and dance away from him instantly, taunting him as he heads home in the inky darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:)  
> \- Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Also, thank you to the people that left kudos on this - you're all amazing and the fact this story has over 3,000 hits is mind-blowing! Massive thanks to all you guys!<3


	47. A dye for your thoughts?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to name all of my chapters in this story, and due to lack of inspiration, I'm offering the chance up for you guys! That is if you want to anyway, if not, then just ignore this and move on down for the next part:)
> 
> If you want to or have an idea for a chapter name, feel free to leave the name on said chapter and I'll decide which I like best:) I know this is a little bit lame, but I want you guys to feel like you can get involved in this story, if you want to anyway.
> 
> I'm just going to walk away awkwardly now and let you read this part as I cross my fingers and hope that you're not all laughing at me for this...
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh

The lights are on inside Niall’s apartment as Niall slips his key into his door, the sound of the TV light in the air as he hears the kettle boil in his kitchen and a near silent curse that could only belong to one person.

“What _are_ you doing in my apartment, Zee?” Niall asks as he pushes the door open, the heat inside warm against his chill skin - seems the repair man fixed the heating he smiles; he laughs in the face of a ‘two month waiting list’ when he was waiting just three weeks - making him melt into the room, pouring himself into the kitchen and dumping his shopping on the kitchen table.

“I came to see you,” Zayn says, his back to Niall as he pours boiling water into the mugs he has lining the worktop, stirring them individually before passing one into Niall’s awaiting hand.

“Course you did,” Niall mumbles around the rim of his mug, smiling as the coffee hits the back of his throat, making his throat constrict but his body warm up instantly.  “And I went to work today because I wanted to.”

“You did want to,” Zayn reasons, his hand coming up to create a platform for his drink to sit on as he smirks at Niall’s cocked and confused brow.  “You wanted to go to work so that you would be able to reap the benefits later.  Therefore, you wanted to go to work.”

Niall shakes his head as he rolls his eyes at his friend, hiding his smile behind his mug, hating how Zayn smirks when he knows he’s right and Niall’s made a fool of himself trying to outsmart him.

“Anyway,” Niall begins, desperate to wipe the smirk from Zayn’s lips; it’s cool when it’s aimed at someone else but not quite so when you’re the one on the receiving end. 

He clears his throat, feeling his mouth fall into something of a straight line with no pinched sides or arch to their expanse, a smile not even daring to slide onto them.  “What are you doing here?  I can’t imagine you came round just to make me a cup of coffee after work, and if you did, I might just have to lock you up here and steal your heart from Haz.”

Zayn makes a groaning noise in the back of his throat, eyes flashing with an ounce of worry before supping back a mouthful of hot coffee, eyes soft and nervous even before he’s asked the question that Niall’s been trying to put off for the last 18 hours.

“Are you okay?” Niall nods instantly, trying to make his eyes shine sincerely and throw Zayn off the scent, but he knows better than that when Zayn frowns at him, silently beckoning for him to tell him what’s actually wrong and not lie through his teeth.

“Yeah, cool, okay man,” Zayn smirks, nodding along with his words as he laces them with sarcasm that’s as thick and sticky as honey.  “Now that you’ve had a chance to try and hide inside of yourself, it’s time to answer the question.”  He deadpans, making Niall groan inwardly

“Nothing’s wrong,” Zayn eyes him disbelieving, sipping at his drink contemplatively, cogs in his brain working to find a way to ask the question that’s developing inside of his mind.  “Honestly, I’m good.”

“Good,” Zayn tries the word out on his tongue, frowning at how it tumbles from his lips like the lie he knows that Niall’s telling him.  “Okay then.”

Zayn sets off into Niall’s living room, sliding his half-full mug onto the small, cluttered worktop in Niall’s kitchen as he goes and pulling his leather jacket up his arms before reaching for the door handle hanging on Niall’s front door, without a word.

“Zee, don’t leave.” Niall says, sensing the tense set of Zayn’s shoulders as his hands wrap around the metal of the door handle, before Zayn’s flipping him a betrayed look over his shoulder and shrugging a goodbye, the door creaking open wide enough to let his slender frame through it.

“Zayn!” Niall shouts, running after his caramel eyed friend and grabbing onto his arm as he makes his way out of Niall’s door, avoiding eye contact with the blonde haired boy.  “Zayn, I’m fine, honestly.”

Zayn’s lips pout into a frown but he keeps his eyes on the creaking wood of the corridor that Niall’s apartment is situated on. 

“I was just second guessing myself, that’s all.”  Niall mumbles; determined to get rid of the betrayed gleam that flashes within Zayn’s eyes that he hasn’t seen for years.

Zayn’s facade instantly falls, the mask he’s been hiding behind tumbling to the floor as he eyes the honesty in Niall’s eyes; falling into mother mode.  “Second guessing yourself?”

Niall nods, unsure of how he’s going to explain that he’s more or less questioned every part of Saturday night multiple times within his head, scouring it for clues for as to why Louis was so short and snappy with him in his text.

How two simple words had made him such an insufferable bastard in the space of less than a day, and caused him to refuse to turn on his phone, though not because he was fearing the multiple worried texts that Zayn would bombard him with, but instead fearing seeing something more, something deeper and sharper in Louis’ words.

When did I become like Liam? Niall asks himself, batting away at the thoughts that clutter his brain, and instead focusing his attention back on Zayn, watching his teeth worry at his lower lip, stabbing it incessantly as his dark eyes skim over Niall’s face, hunting down the answer to all of his pent up questions.

“You wanna talk about it?” Zayn asks, eyes sincere and just so like Zayn; always going out of his way when he feels that there’s something not quite right about a person that he knows, taking his time to build them back up again with his own, personal pieces, pulling himself apart to fix another.

Niall nods in response to Zayn’s question and smiles back at Zayn’s soft grin, mesmerised by how he managed to get and keep Zayn as a permanent fixture in his life, a friend that he can’t imagine stumbling through life without.

Zayn’s arm comes up to wrap around Niall’s shoulders - a heavy weight on his soul that makes his heart thrum, instead of drag sadly in his chest - and drag the pair of them back into Niall’s apartment again, but Niall digs his feet in just before they cross the threshold.

Zayn’s eyebrows knit together when he feels Niall’s body slip out from under his arm, his hand coming to hang by his side instead, limp.  “What’re you doing, Nialler?”

“I’m going to talk about it.” Niall grins, teeth struggling to stay behind his lips and instead coming out to be framed by the pink of his lips.

“Out here?” Zayn asks, disbelieving, looking around them to see what’s holding Niall back and not let them trample back into Niall’s apartment again and stumble onto the sofa instead of standing in the cold of the corridor, Niall’s flat door open and letting the heat from his radiators out to go to waste.

Niall shakes his head, his hair flopping against his forehead due to the fact he couldn’t be bothered to mess around with it this morning, leaving it to sweep across his forehead instead. 

“No, inside.” Zayn continues to look at Niall questioningly, making Niall grin impossibly wider. “But under one condition.”  Niall holds a finger up to back up what he wants, making Zayn eye it skeptically.

“And what condition would that be?” Zayn leans back against Niall’s doorframe, watching Niall curiously, and waiting for an answer that will make this all add up and make more sense than it currently does.

Niall taps at his chin, head tipped back in thought as he tries to remember what products he bought and stocked up on recently in his bathroom.  “Well it would be under Timotei conditioner, Head and Shoulder’s shampoo and Schwarzkopf hair dye.”

Zayn smirks, putting two and two together.  “I take it you want me to dye your hair then, yeah?”

Niall nods, running a hand through his hair and pulling at it to make it obvious of the length of dark roots that he has running through his hair and pouting when Zayn laughs at his actions.  “Okay, you got the dye?”

Niall nods again, skipping past Zayn into the apartment and pulling the discounted hair dye bottles from his carrier bag and setting them on the table for Zayn to read and look at before he’s slipping his previously bought ready meal into the fridge and pulling out a pizza from the freezer.  “You hungry, Zee?”

Zayn nods, eyes set on the electric blue packaging of the hair dye as he squints at the instructions, trying to process them, though Niall has no idea why; they always use this dye for Niall’s hair and as far as he can tell, the instructions are yet to change or vary packet by packet.  “Pizza okay?”

“Yeah,” Zayn smiles, bearing to tear himself away from the instructions and root around Niall’s apartment for the items that he needs to complete his current task.  “Just let me text Haz to let him know I won’t need to be fed tonight.”

“Please tell me that wasn’t an innuendo.”

Zayn just smirks over his shoulder at Niall in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope crossing my fingers worked...
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own, feel free to let me know any and all comments, positive or negative, that you have:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	48. Bottle blonde and turned tables

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember when I first posted this and couldn't decide if I was going to finish it, or even find time to write it. Now, I'm writing a chapter every day and still trying to uphold some sort of socialization and academic success! I'm more or less failing on the socializing bit though, but that's just how I am...
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh

“So he just sent you ‘I’m okay’?” Zayn sounds pissed with every word he spits, though the actual emotions that are littered on his friend’s face are hidden from his view, due to the towel being rubbed at his hair, shielding his eyes from the fire that’s raging in Zayn’s.

“Yeah,” Niall sighs, moving out of the way of Zayn’s harsh hands as he rubs at Niall’s scalp, drying his freshly blonde hair.  “I didn’t know if I’d done anything to piss him off on Saturday, so I haven’t replied to him.”

“You haven’t replied to him?” Zayn repeats dropping down onto a kitchen chair by Niall’s kicking his shoes off of his feet and crossing his legs at the ankles under Niall’s kitchen table as he throws the towel in the general direction of the washing machine.

“I didn’t want to make him mad and stuff.” Niall shrugs, pushing his damp hair off of his forehead into a messy quiff, watching the strands fall one by one as gravity pulls them back down.  “That’s why I asked you if I’d done anything to him, y’know?  I mean, I just met the guy and I didn’t want to have done something wrong and just written over it like it hadn’t happened.  That’s a shit thing to do.”

Zayn smiles, reaching over the table to ruffle Niall’s damp hair before he lifts his mug of cool coffee to his lips, grimacing at the taste, but going back for more regardless once he’s swallowed his first mouthful.  “Well, I guess he might not have been ready for...”

Zayn’s eyes cloud over before his sentence has dropped fully from his lips, his jaw dropped as his tongue twists inside of his mouth, seemingly uncomfortable with the situation.  “Zayn, what’s wrong?”

When Niall gets no answer other than Zayn glugging back his drink and pulling his phone from his pocket, eyeing it nervously, he begins to worry, noting the way that Zayn shifts his body in his chair, as if ready and waiting to sprint out of the door any second.

“Zayn?” Niall tries again, voice nervous and timid as he begins reaching his hand across the tabletop to touch at Zayn’s limp wrist, feeling a cold chill take over his friend’s bones as he does.  “What’s wrong?”

Zayn’s eyes flicker up to meet his then, biting at his lip angry at himself when he sees the quietly sad look in Niall’s blue eyes and the nervous arch of his eyebrows.  “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Zayn rubs at his eyes, feeling the heavy weight that midweek gives him, knowing just how near and yet so far the weekend is.  “It’s fine,” He sighs, looking at Niall and smiling at his friend to let him know he’s okay.  “I just need to text Haz and get him to check something for me.”

Zayn can sense that Niall knows that he’s not telling the whole truth but he can’t currently face that fact as he types out a text to Harry, trying to seem calm and collected as his fingers whizz frantically across the screen.

‘You might wanna see Lou, Haz.  I don’t know if there’s anything wrong, but just check.  He seems a bit freaked out about Niall.  He hugged him drunkenly on Saturday and I don’t know whether he’s just being sharp or if he’s upset, but he’s text Niall something that doesn’t seem like him.  Just check on him, please?  Love you <3’

Zayn feels Niall eyes on him before he’s even raised his own pair, Niall’s sapphire orbs beckoning for him to open up; places swapped from just an hour before when he had been watching Niall, hunting down the questions he wanted with his eyes instead of his words.

“Sure you’re okay?” Niall asks, chuckling when Zayn can’t get his phone back into his jean pocket – or more rightly Harry’s jean pocket, since they belong to said boy, before Zayn had bummed them off of him to be able to come over to Niall’s in something that wasn’t his pyjamas - having to stand up to slide it seamlessly into the near painted-on material

 “Yeah,” Zayn smiles, a weight falling off of his shoulders when he feels the vibrations of a reply in his pocket, not bothering to check it when Niall’s smiling freely towards him like they used to when they had nothing to worry about and no one to have to piece back together again.

Niall starts picking up their mugs and one of two pieces of pizza off of the plate in front of them, pushing the other to Zayn before he’s walking across the room, chewing loudly in a way that only Niall can manage to make endearing and not gross as he goes.

“Good,” Niall grins, filling the kettle before flicking it on.  “You went a bit strange then,” Niall frowns at himself when his laugh turns more or less into a choked noise in his throat.  “You wanna watch TV or has Hazza beckoned you back?”

“I can probably stay for an hour or so,” Niall grins at Zayn’s words, pouring their drinks and carrying them into the living room with a packet of biscuits off of the worktop in his other hand and beckoning Zayn to follow him.

Settling down next to each other to give them each time to be able to escape the problems that are dancing in their lives and causing chaos wherever they look right now, as they argue over which _I’m A Celebrity_ contestant deserves to do a Bushtucker Trial, bickering animatedly and laughing along with each other like they’re still the teens that they were when they first met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel disappointed in my writing these last few chapters and the plot seems to be buried deep within this story and not coming through how I had wanted it to, so I apologize to you all for not putting up sufficient work on this story - I'm a little bit blocked and feeling over worked at the minute, but I'm going to try and make it worth your while to sit and read this story<3
> 
> Also, remember to think of chapter titles for the chance to have them published on this story - my prizes are brilliant (meet my sarcasm!) anyway, I'd love to hear your ideas!<3
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers!
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like<3


	49. It's hard to protect you from myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this, it feels a little bit more me, if you know what I mean? Anyway, I hope you enjoy it<3
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh

Harry’s asleep on the sofa when Zayn gets back, his curly hair flat against his forehead as he snores lightly, the TV muted and allowing multicoloured images to dance into and out of his deep-set dimples as he dreams.

Zayn smiles at the sleeping boy, walking past him to grab a blanket for him out of the cupboard and lay it over the Harry’s body, stroking his thumb along Harry’s jaw in greeting.

“You awake, Haz?” He whispers, grinning when Harry doesn’t even twitch in his slumber, merely nuzzles deeper into the sofa cushions and slides his hand up to rub at his jaw where Zayn’s fingers had been.

Zayn turns the TV off, coating the room in a sheet of darkness before he tiptoes through Harry’s flat, heading into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water and wash the few pots and plates that litter Harry’s worktop, leaving Harry be on the sofa whilst he works.

Harry’s gentle snores are gentle background noise to his night, making him grin when Harry’s snores become irregularly loud before tapering off into their even near-silent whispers, before he’s lifting Harry into his arms and carrying him towards his bedroom, Harry nuzzling to his chest when he does so.

When they reach Harry’s bedroom door, he lays Harry on the bed - not daring to turn on the lights in case of waking him - and slowly pulls off his boyfriend’s clothing, flinging it across the room to drape over the small chair in the corner of Harry’s bedroom, so that they don’t trip over it in the morning.

Just as he’s wrapping the covers around Harry’s body and slinking his way around the bed to the side he normally occupies, he whines due to a body in his place. 

“Haz,” He groans under his breath, pushing at the boy’s sleep-limp body and willing him to roll back over to the side that Zayn had placed him on merely seconds before.

Harry moves under his hand, rolling back across the spread of the bed, but only a little and Zayn sighs before pulling off his jeans and leaving himself in just his boxers, t-shirt and socks and sliding onto the bed, pushing at Harry with his feet as he slithers under the duvet.

He groans when Harry rolls back into his side, hands hitting sleepily at his body, his boyfriend trying to push him away as the darkness shrouds them in shadows. 

“Haz, get to your side.” He whispers sleepily into the air, hiding his head in the pillow and blowing childishly at Harry’s face to make him give in and roll back over again.

When he gets nothing but a tired push at his shoulder in reply, he twists himself under the covers, reaching his hand across the covers to pull Harry closer, not minding his presence when he’s able to smell the apple scent of his hair when he’s drifting in and out of consciousness.

Zayn’s arms wrap around Harry’s body, fingers meeting a t-shirt that he’s adamant he took off of Harry’s torso, as he hooks his hand around Harry’s waist to pull him closer to his chest. 

Zayn sighs when his hands travel up Harry’s sides, skin warm under his fingertips as he draws sleepy patterns into the newly bared expanse of skin, that he caused by pushing Harry’s shirt up a little higher around his hips.

Zayn settles his lips at the nape of Harry’s neck, feeling his hair tickle at his nose as he kisses at the taut skin.  His lips soft as he presses lazy closed-mouth embraces to the warm flesh before he’s being hit in the nose by the back of Harry’s head and said boy is scampering out of his grasp and down to the end of the bed.

“Haz?” Zayn whispers into the dark, holding onto his nose as it throbs under his fingers from the collision with Harry’s head. “What’re you doing?”  His voice sounds funny when he holds his nose, he notes.

Silence is the only answer he receives before he’s crawling out of the covers and over the top of the sheets towards where Harry’s perched, shoulders tensed as he sits at the end of the bed, poised and ready to dart.  “Harry?”

“Yeah?” A voice mumbles from behind him and he startles, the hand that he had raised to reach out and touch Harry whipping back towards his body, as if he just put his hand into the heart of a flame, cradling it to his chest as his eyes dart back to the tense body rocking at the end of the bed.

Zayn’s eyebrows furrow, reaching out a hand to Harry’s under the duvet where he’s laid in the place that Zayn placed him and squeezing to get his attention without scaring the person at the end of the bed.

Harry wiggles under the sheets as he twists himself into a sitting position, Zayn’s hand clamped around Harry’s as the curly haired boy reaches across the bed to switch on the bedside lamp, glazing the entire room in a faint shimmer of light that bounces around the room before falling on the terror-stricken eye’s of Louis at the end of the bed.

“Lou?” Harry’s voice is slow with sleep and dripping with confusion as he looks between Zayn and Louis, barely daring to move as he watches the pair, the sadness in Zayn’s eyes and the panic dancing in his best friend’s.

Louis’ mouth is bunched up into an ugly mess, lips quivering as he turns towards the sound of his name, eyes falling on the concerned ones of Harry, before the pins that are pricking at the back of his eyes become too much and hot, lashings of tears are scorching his skin.

Harry reaches out for him instantly, feeling his heart sit heavy in his chest at the broken remains of his friend, feeling him sink into his arms the moment that they come in contact with Louis’ skin.

Zayn’s hand comes to sit on Louis’ shoulder, squeezing lightly in an apology that he can’t voice, fearing that the lump in his voice will crack his voice and he’ll break down like he promised himself he never would again.

Louis tenses in Harry’s embrace, falling further into his arms, wrapping his body more snugly around Harry’s as he tries to escape Zayn’s hand, heart hammering in his chest at the way that Zayn’s hand had run up his body, as if he was just an animal, an object to be owned, that had no say in the matter.

Harry looks over Louis’ head where it’s tucked into Harry’s chest, his eyes sad yet loving as he signals for Zayn to leave them for a minute, sensing the tension between the pair with how Louis shied away from both him and his contact, and wanting to make Louis feel safe again; regardless of how much that takes.

“It’s okay, Lou,” Harry assures, pulling Louis tighter and feeling his breathing stop the moment that Zayn’s hand reaches across to stroke at Harry’s arm in a friendly gesture, before returning to normal when Zayn’s away from him and getting up off of the bed to leave the room; shutting the door carefully behind himself once he’s smiled small at Harry from the threshold.

Harry gets no reply from Louis but a sad, little nod and a hiccup of a, “Yeah,” when Zayn’s gone and his friend falls pliant in his arms, his shoulders losing their previously guarded state as he prises his fingers off of Harry, knuckles turning from their ghostly white to a healthy tan in seconds, just watching him with a small smile that doesn’t substitute well for his usually wide grin.

And that alone, is enough to break Harry’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to think of chapter names, if you want to, and leave them in the comments for me to see on that specific chapter so that I can chose a winner:)
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know! Don't be Silent Readers<3


	50. Shadows of the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like back stories...
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh

Zayn shuffles through Harry’s flat, the air cold around his barely clothed body, making him grit his teeth and hide himself under the blanket that had earlier been huddled around Harry’s sleeping shoulders on the sofa.

The apartment is quiet around him as he wraps the blanket around his shoulders, dropping down onto the sofa and sinking into the cushions, his eyes desperate for sleep as they roll back in their sockets, though his heart is hammering and his mind racing; forcing him awake.

Harry’s sleep-slow voice is barely a whisper as it travels through the walls, a constant reminder that Zayn’s at Harry’s apartment, not his own, despite the fact that it feels like it is.

Feels like its empty, the locks on the doors barely strong enough to keep out the worst burglar in the world, let alone the people that haunted him for years, scratching at his door at ungodly hours of the morning and cackling away as they tried to scare him, try to make him react so that they could do it again and again and again.

A feeling of uneasiness in the air, thick shadows stretched across the breadth of the room, contorting images that trap a constant scream in his throat as he closes his eyes. 

Forcing his mind to shut down so that he can sleep, he begins sinking deeper into the blanket and the sofa cushions, willing away the thoughts that flood his mind as the darkness looms over him.

The darkness that was painted to his skin, like oil, as he clutched at his side, wishing away their cackles of joy at the limp in his leg as he tried to hobble away. 

How they had chased him like an animal, until there was no fight left in him and he dropped to the floor, left in anticipation for the pain that they were going to inflict upon him as they chattered away, telling him what they were going to do before they did it; forcing him to live to torture twice over.

The pulses of bruises that had rippled up underneath his skin, bursting blood vessels and splitting skin as his body curled in on itself, trying to hold back the tears that they wanted him to spill as they hissed at how no one would be able to accept, let alone love, such an _ugly fag_ like him.

How their voices had been loud in the air, yet no one had looked out of their window to see what was going on, not a single curtain twitched as he writhed in pain, face wet with tears and their saliva as they spat on him, hissing slurs from above him. 

Though he couldn’t see them as they showed him what they thought of him, of what he was; his eyes too badly beaten, shrivelled into pulps, as they dragged their selection of derogative curses through the air, fire in their eyes that he could sense, didn’t need to see.

How they had been the ones that he had been through life with; how he had met them in primary, learnt basic maths, how to read and how to write with, smiled at from across the street as they skipped home. 

The people that he had been in the same boat with when they ventured onto the school bus on their first morning of secondary, being the babies of the school instead of the heads as they ducked out of the way of the bigger kids that bustled around them.

Until they became the bigger boys.

When they moved up through the ranks of the school and they learnt what it was to be ‘abnormal’.  How not everybody acted the way some people did, and how that was to be frowned upon.  That being different was the worst quality that you could have.

If you looked different, you were ‘abnormal’. 

If you happened to have a different skin colour to theirs, then you were ‘abnormal’. 

If you lead yourself through life following different rules than they did, then you were ‘abnormal’.

If you didn’t look at girls like they were merely objects and actually treated them with respect, unlike them, then you were ‘abnormal’.

If you didn’t want to kiss a girl when playing Spin the Bottle, and didn’t see a problem with kissing a boy instead, then you were ‘abnormal’.

If you were ‘abnormal’, you fitted in somewhere, though. 

If you were Zayn, then you were gay; and gay fits in ‘nowhere’ – nowhere but the end of an alley just around the corner from your school as you walked home to your new flat, aged 16 with grime on your face and your body throbbing, skin split unceremoniously open as you cried to yourself.

Shed tears for the life that you could have lived, for the life that was destined for you, that your parents had _wanted_ you to lead.  The life that your parents kicked you out of, deemed impossible for you when you refused to change.

Refused to change your views on love to suit the rules that they wanted you to live by.  To change to make them love you for something that you were never going to be; to be seen as straight as a ruler when you were about as straight as a circle.

He was indirectly put in the grime of the alley by the two people that were supposed to stay by his side no matter what, the people that he had put all of his trust into, who he had been straight up and honest with when he was looking for help in his most desperate time of need when they had asked what was wrong.

When he had told them he was gay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you that wanted to know what's up with Zayn, here the start of his problems! I hope you enjoyed it:)
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own, and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know! Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Also, remember, to send in your chapter name ideas if you'd like to! There's many chapters to name and they're all up for grabs!
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like to<3


	51. Bring me back (I don't wanna be here alone)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you that silently screamed at me for the leaving the last chapter where it was...
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh

That was the last time he had seen his parents, the last time that they had deemed him acceptable to look at as he had carried his few meaningful belongings down the stairs of his house over to Niall’s house; tears streaming down his face as he angrily kicked the front door of his parents house shut behind himself before turning up on Niall’s front steps, more or less begging to be accepted.

Niall had of course welcomed him in with open arms, calling Liam round so that they could have a sleepover to keep his emotions at bay and Niall’s parents off the scent for as the why there had been a box of Zayn’s belongings at the end of Niall’s bed that night.

The sleepover had quelled the majority of Zayn’s emotions, causing him to laugh until his stomach hurt as he chuckled at Niall and Liam’s attempt to re-enact a scene in Star Wars; Niall slotting ear muffs over his head to represent Princess Leia’s hair.

Niall and Liam had kept him hidden within their rooms for a week, swapping over his resting places day by day, as he worked to collect money and such to try to get himself set up and out of their hair for good; slipping into corner shops to flick through newspapers for job openings and flats for rent before the owners kicked him out. 

Though it was his older sister that had come round to help him, her eyes nervous as she stood under Niall’s porch, the rain heavy behind her as she pushed a duffle bag into his hands and hugged him tight, nuzzling her face into his neck as she whispered that she still cared as she slipped a piece of paper into his hand before setting off into the downpour, not looking back.

That had been four and a half years ago, he had been in the same bedsit apartment for the same length of time, as he had walked straight to the building the day after his sister had come round, paying his rent with the money she had provided him and setting up the few items that she had packed him in the bag, in his new home.

He hadn’t seen her since, hadn’t even heard from her, or any member of his family since his parents kicked him out.  Instead having to hear from Liam’s dad that they had left town just six months after Zayn had been abolished from their family home in a crash of tears and curses.  Not a single goodbye to their only son.

Not that they classed him as their son.  He was classed as a burden; simply a means to direct their abuse at, their disappointment.  He wasn’t their son, he was their failure.

Their son that got more or less all A*’s in all of his exams and never missed a deadline for his work.  Their son that was the star pupil in all of his classes and forever being praised by his teachers.  Their son that looked after his sisters, trying to protect and teach them as best he could.  Their son that was polite to all and tried to be the best that he could be.  Their son that liked kissing boys and saw no problem with it.

And that was what they viewed as the failure.

The fact that he had varying opinions to them and wanted to find love - true love - that would make him happy, not the love that they thought he should feel towards a woman who he would be in no way attracted to and would no doubt live to resent for making him live a life he had no desire to lead.

The boys at school had known for a while that Zayn wasn’t like them, that there was something wrong with him, though his father and the rest of his family seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that he never looked twice at any girl he met.

Though it had been ironic how it had been his father that had seen the bruises lining his forearm first.  His tired eyes widening as they took in the expanse of splatters of black and blue along his son’s entire arm, pulling Zayn’s arm toward him and shucking up his sleeve to understand the full extent of the burst blood vessels on his son.

“What happened, Zayn?” He had asked, eyes concerned as Zayn tried to roll his sleeve back down, to conceal the truth from his father; that he wasn’t strong enough to fight for himself.

“Nothing,” His father frowned at him, tugging him into the kitchen where his mother was stood over a saucepan, stirring occasionally before they caught her eyes, forehead crinkling confused as she eyed a squirming Zayn and the hard set line of his father’s mouth.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, voice soft and loving and free of judgement - like the mother he wants to be able to remember, though cannot - as she walked across the room, cocking her hip to lean against one of the wooden chairs around the kitchen table as she eyed her two boys.  “Zayn?”

Zayn shrunk under her gaze, feeling her questioning stare as it floated over his head to his father’s eyes.  “He’s got bruises,” His father began, hoisting up Zayn’s arm to hold it in front of his mother’s face whilst Zayn tried to squirm away again, earning his arm a painful squeeze from his father, instructing him to stop.  “And he won’t tell me where he got them from.”

“Zayn?” She began, reaching out to touch at the nasty black bruises, fingertips light as they dance across the sore areas of skin.  “What happened, honey?”

Zayn shakes his head, burrowing it deeper into the blanket around himself, not wanting to remember the disappointed slant of her stare as the truth was pulled from his mouth that night, slipping between his lips as it crawled up his throat  and into her ears.

The curses and screams that his parents had emitted towards him, direct hits to his heart when they told him to leave, to get out, that they didn’t want him anymore.  That he wasn’t worth their time, that he was nothing like they thought he was; he wasn’t clever, or handsome, or amazing.  He was gay.

And that was enough to make him no longer their son, to instead make him a blasphemy.

The words ring in Zayn’s ears as the darkness sweeps deeper around him, the moon hung high in the sky being cloaked by the ever increasing dark clouds in the sky before he’s being tugged into a pair of arms. 

Their heat making him curl deeper into himself as the once locked away words continue to scorch his memories, destroying them and making his heart hurt in his chest.

“It’s okay, Zayn,” Harry whispers, breath light against the side of Zayn’s face as he kisses his cheek through the mass of tears that have collected on his skin.  “You’re fine, everything’s fine.”

He just nods; ducking deeper into Harry’s body as hiccups around his breaths, wiping at his face and trying to lock the torment of the memories back up in his brain so that he never has to feel like this again.

So that he never has to feel the tears that Harry’s shedding, for him, hit his skin again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was okay, there's still more to discover about Zayn's past, but I felt that now was the right time to enlighten you on some of the troubles he's faced:)
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, I'd love to hear from you! Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Also, feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like to:)


	52. (Distract me) I'm breaking us all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still looking for chapter names, guys...
> 
> Also, the reason it says this is chapter 51 is because I've broken chapter 2 down into two parts, sadly I have no updated twice in one day:( Although, you have been getting a chapter a day for over a month, so really, you're lucky human beings;)

The bed feels cold without Harry next to Louis, but he understands why he’s not there; why he’s in the living room with Zayn as they sup at mugs of tea and whisper loving nothings to one another, and he hates it.

Hates the fact that they have what he wants, that they get to live the life he’s always dreamt of, always wished for.

He throws the covers back off of his body, leaving them in a messy, bunched up state as he heads for the door to the bedroom, before turning back around and setting them back straight, lining the cushions up also, feeling guilty at the thoughts that had entered his mind.

Once Harry’s bed is made and Louis had held his breath as he listened to the goings on outside of the door, he wraps his fist around the handle and tugs it open carefully, mouth in a line.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry greets, raising his mug in a welcoming gesture from where he’s sat on the worktop, feet stretched out in front of himself and positioned on the back of Zayn’s chair.  “You want something to drink?”

Louis waves him off with a smile and sets about tugging his shoes back onto his feet from where they’re sat at the front door, using the wall as a balancing tool as he tries to get them on as fast as he can as he can feel the air move as Harry tiptoes towards him.

As Louis raises his head, he comes face to face with a worried twist of Harry’s face, eyes sadder than his mind had visualised and clouded in confusion as he watches Louis lean back against the door, fingers coming to play with the lock.

“Where’re you going, Lou?” Harry asks, just watching Louis as he stands pigeon-toed in his own home, as if he feels out of place in the one place that he shouldn’t.

“Home,” Louis whispers, keeping his eyes away from Harry’s, knowing that if he does, Harry will win and he’ll stay here when he can’t; not right now. “It’s fine, Haz.”

Harry shakes his head, his hair coming to fall around his eyes in tired ringlets as the moon drifts in through the window behind him, framing him in a cool white glow.  “You can stay here.”

Then it’s Louis’ turn to shake his head, eyes as sad as Harry looks when he realises that Louis isn’t going to stay.  “But I want you to stay here.” Harry near pleads, fingers timidly reaching out to wrap around Louis’.  “I don’t want you to go home, not now.  It’s too late and dark, stay here.”

Harry’s eyes are desperate and shining in worry as he bites at his lip, insecure, watching Louis and trying to get him to agree without dropping to his knees and pleading with him, begging for him to stay.

“Haz,” Louis chokes, squeezing his friend’s fingers between his own to try to convey the fact that he can’t and the apology that’s stuck in his throat.

“I’m sorry, Louis,” Zayn’s voice is startlingly broken as it raps around the room, bouncing off of the walls into Louis’ ears, breaking his eyes away from Harry’s to watch the slump of Zayn’s shoulders as he gets up off of the chair he had been perched on.

Louis can barely speak as Zayn walks towards him, his steps to slow and cautious, as if he’s walking up to an animal, not a person that he’s known for months; and that makes Louis’ heart break, knowing what he’s become to the people he knows.

Zayn’s in front of him in seconds, his hair rugged and tugged out of place, no longer an elegant quiff on top of his head, but a mess of raven strands.  His eyes bloodshot and tired, like the life has been sucked out of him, whilst the black bags that hang under his eyes age his face massively.

“I’m sorry too,” Louis whispers, making a move to step away from the door and reach his hand out to Zayn’s, squeezing tightly around Zayn’s bony fingers to convey what words he cannot voice when Harry’s around. 

Harry doesn’t need to know how Louis mistook his boyfriend for a rapist, for the worst kind of betrayal and shied away from his hand, even after figuring out who it was.

How Louis had nearly bolted from the bedroom when he knew that someone, anyone, had touched him when he hadn’t wanted it. 

That he’d been afraid of the man that had helped him, and had visualised him as the one that had ripped Louis’ life out from under him, thrust by thrust, just via confused and unintentional touches.

That he had thought that Zayn had been the one that had made his insides feel like they were on fire with the most simplest of movements, made the bruises purple against his skin and force him to curl his fingers into his hands due to the extent of cuts there.

The anger that he feels for himself was created due to Zayn, that the frustration and hatred for what he allowed himself to be drawn into, to bubble furiously within himself and cause him to retch into the toilet sadly, alone.

That the phone call from his boss that told him he had lost his job and wouldn’t be getting a reference, was Zayn’s fault. 

The fact that had couldn’t live the life he had so successfully built up for himself coming crashing down around him was Zayn’s fault.

Though it wasn’t.

That’s why the tears dripped from his eyes when Zayn looked to him as if he couldn’t believe the words were directed at him, before Louis was pulling him closer to his body and wrapping his hands tightly around Zayn’s shoulders, fingers tight in the material of Zayn’s shirt as he told Zayn just how sorry he was, his breathing becoming laboured as he continued his whispered speech in Zayn’s ear.

“I’m sorry,” He breathes, releasing Zayn from his grip and dropping back from his tiptoes down to flat feet as he eyes the boy that had accepted him and treated him as if nothing had happened, as if he understood.

“There’s no need to be,” Zayn whispers, reaching out to stroke a final tear off of Louis’ face with a smile that warms Louis’ heart.

“Oh my God!” Harry cries around them, breaking Zayn and Louis’ attention from each other, his green eyes happy as he bounces up and down on the spot, eyes flickering between Louis and Zayn with a marvelled expression.  “You two are so cute!”

Zayn rolls his eyes at his boyfriend, smirking at Louis who’s laughing along at Harry’s sudden outburst as Zayn grabs at his waist, slinging him across his shoulder as Harry screams in giggly protest to be put down.

Zayn doesn’t indulge his request however, and instead sets off to carry Harry towards his bedroom, kicking the door open before turning back to face Louis, a small nervous smile on his lips.  “You staying, Lou?”

“ There’s room for three, Lou!” Harry squeals before Louis has chance to answer Zayn’s question.  “We could have a sleepover!”

Zayn chuckles fondly at his boyfriend that’s slung across his shoulders as he watches Louis, awaiting an answer.  “Yeah,” Louis whispers, nodding timidly.  “Is it okay if I stay?”

Harry nods enthusiastically, smiling wide, teeth coming out to play in his wide grin as he flails his arms happily.  “Yes!  You can help me make Zayn watch Grease!”  Zayn groans in response, tapping at the back of Harry’s head as he tells him that he doesn’t want to watch it and cannot be made to.  “You can, and you _will_ watch Grease, Zayn.”

Louis chuckles as he tugs his shoes back off of his feet to walk towards Harry and Zayn as they continue to bicker over whether or not Zayn has to watch Grease or not.  “Or we could watch a horror film,” Louis grins when Harry suddenly goes stock still in Zayn’s arms.  “You know, Zayn, Hazza here loves them.”

Zayn smirks towards Louis, nodding in response as Harry grips tighter to Zayn’s shirt, refusing to watch anything horrifying or scary because they both know he doesn’t like them. 

The pair of them just smirk in response, Zayn throwing Harry through the bedroom door to land on the middle of the bed as Louis grabs a handful of DVD’s off of the shelf in the living room, ready for a night with the lads that he hasn’t had in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The not-quite-a-competition competition is still open, for chapter title names! If you have any ideas, then please leave them in the comments on that particular chapter:) I will give you credit for the title in the respective chapter if I pick your title as a winner:)
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Also, feel free to check out my other work, if you want to:)


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my work,   
> Ink your skin with a part of me and put it on show for the world to see ( http://archiveofourown.org/works/1014274 ) for more of the tattoo story shown in this chapter:)

They finally decide on Transformers, watching it practically until the sky becomes light as the sun rises through the sky, slashing at the darkness with it’s bright beams.

“I think we should probably sleep now,” Zayn chuckles as Harry flicks at the back of Louis’ ear, asking if he will cuddle him.  “It’s getting late and we have work in the morning, Haz.”

Harry pouts at Zayn, pulling Louis into his side and squeezing said boy into a tight embrace.  “But we don’t wanna go to work, do we, Lou?  We wanna stay home and build blanket forts.”

Zayn rolls his eyes at his boyfriend.  “You’ve got work, Haz.” He warns as Harry sets off through the apartment to grab blankets from the cupboard in the hall, the material dragging behind him as he carries it back into the bedroom, grinning childishly at Louis.

“I know,” Harry sticks his tongue out at Zayn, and maybe allowing him to have a bottle of beer wasn’t the best of ideas when Harry can’t handle his liquors _and_ he has work tomorrow.  “That’s why we’re building it now, so that I can work tomorrow.”

Louis chuckles at his friend, seemingly sensing Zayn’s discomfort at the fact Harry wants to stay up and instead reaching across Harry and stealing the mass of blankets from his tipsy friend, earning him a pout. 

“We’ll build it tomorrow when you get home from work, Haz.” Louis whispers into Harry’s ear, as if it’s a secret, making Harry chuckle madly because Zayn’s eying them speculatively.

“Yeah,” Harry nods, watching Zayn’s eyebrow raise questioningly before he’s dropping onto the bed and wrapping himself up under the covers.  “Promise, Lou?” He sticks his little finger up in the air as he eyes Louis nervously, as if waiting for him to say no.

“Promise.” Harry beams at his words, shutting his eyes with a grin stretching his lips as he rolls in the duvet to find the comfiest position that he can.  Up until he jumps out of his reverie and is smacking his lips to Zayn’s shamelessly, as he kisses his boyfriend in front of his best friend.

“Night, Zee,” He whispers breathlessly before dropping back into the duvet, eyes slipping shut as soon as his head hits the pillow, as if he hadn’t just passionately kissed the raven haired boy and had instead been sleeping the whole time.

“Night, Haz.” Zayn dances a thumb across Harry’s jaw as he watches the younger boy sleep peacefully, his breath coming out in little puffs that make his ringlet curls flicker under the flutters of air.

Louis smiles watching as his friend is looked at as if he hung the star in the sky. “He loves you beyond words, y’know, Zayn.” Zayn turns to watch Louis, biting at his lip to hide the smile that his eyes give away totally.

“Yeah, I guess he does,” Zayn grins, tugging the duvet cover up to sit snugly around Harry’s shoulders, who grins in his sleep at the action.  “I feel the same for him as well.”

“I can tell, I’ve always been able to tell,” Louis reaches across the double bed for Zayn’s hand, thumbing at the ink lining it.  “You just show it in much more artistic ways,” Zayn blushes at the knowing tone of Louis’ voice as his fingers trace the bird on his hand.

“I show it just like anyone else, I guess.” Zayn tries but Louis looks at him and the whole idea of brushing off what he’s done is completely lost to himself.

“Yeah,” Louis teases, removing his hand from Zayn’s bird tattoo before bouncing off of the bed to tease his fingers over the second drawer of the bedside table, watching the flush deepen on Zayn’s cheeks. “I guess you do,” Zayn bites at his lip; hating the knowing look that Louis gives him, though a part of him revels in it.

“Is it bad?” Zayn whispers, feeling self-conscious now that Louis has brought it up, feeling like he’s done this wrong; just like everything else he’s ever done.  “The way that I show it, I mean?”

Louis watches him, his eyes sad when he sees Zayn’s glaze over with uncertainty.  “It’s most definitely not bad,” Louis assures.  “It’s endearing and the best kind of love.  It’s the kind of showing of love that proves just how deeply you love him.  It shows that you see him with you forever, the fact that you’ve made him a part of yourself,” Louis looks at the bird tattoo again, matching it perfectly to the cage littering Harry’s rib cage.  “In more ways than one.”

Zayn ducks his head, tracing the outline of the bird as he watches the rise and fall of Harry’s chest as he sleeps just inches away from them, completely oblivious of their conversation. 

“I’ve still got the note,” Louis’ eyebrows furrow confused.  “The note he gave me at the bakery.  I’ve still got it; it’s hidden in a box in my apartment, along with the umbrella from that day.  He refused to take it back.”

Louis grins, thinking of Harry and the no doubt cheeky smile he had on his face when he told Zayn to keep it all those months ago, he probably made a cheesy line about it also, Louis thinks.

“Yeah?”  Zayn nods, his eyes holding a quiet confidence, as if he doesn’t care if Louis laughs in his face for his actions. 

“That’s why Harry loves you, because you love him and don’t care how silly you sound.” Louis chuckles when Zayn’s cheeks flush darker again.  “You forget every single reservation you may have when you’re around him and that makes him feel on top of the world; the fact that you’re yourself with him and don’t hide any part of yourself.”

“I should probably hide bits of myself,” Zayn whispers, picking at his nails to give himself something to focus on. “There are bits that no one needs to see about me.”

“They maybe don’t _need_ to see them,” Louis whispers, pulling Zayn’s hands from his nails, feeling his stomach churn at the fact that Zayn’s inflicting pain upon himself.  “But Harry _wants_ to see them.”

“He won’t,” Zayn whispers, voice timid as he tried to keep the lock tight on the vault within his mind that had blasted open earlier tonight.  “He shouldn’t have to see or know some things about me; he needs to know about the bits that won’t hurt him.”

“Nothing about you will hurt him, Zayn.” Louis says, shuffling on the bed so that he can stretch his legs.  “What will hurt him will be knowing that you’ve not let him in.”

Louis pats at Zayn’s shoulder, his eyes honest and un-judging before he’s slipping under the covers next to Harry on the edge of the bed so that Zayn still has room.

Zayn just sits, watching the sun slowly peek up through the sky, painting it a barely there pink as it continues to climb in the sky and the clock on Harry’s bedside table counts down the minutes until he needs to be up for work.

“I don’t want to hurt him, but I know either way I will,” Zayn whispers as he slips beneath the covers, awaiting Louis’ response as he draws patterns into Harry’s hip.

“You won’t, Zayn,” Louis whispers, tiredly, reaching over Harry’s shoulders to squeeze at Zayn’s arm before he’s dropping off to sleep, Harry and Louis’ snores a peaceful backdrop to his massacre of thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, or even chapter names;), please let me know - don't be Silent Readers!<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	54. Sweet Delights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I swear Nouis will get involved in this story.
> 
> I'm thinking that if, and when, I get this story finished, I could write one that is purely Zarry, using the stuff I've already written in this and the story line I've plotted for them, if you know what I mean?
> 
> Anyway, let me know your thoughts on that:)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh, love you beautiful<3

Harry slips through the bakery doors, beanie hat over his curls and a blush on his cheeks from the kiss that Zayn had landed sloppily across his cheeks as they parted ways at the end of the street.  “Hey, Barbara!”

“Harry!” She cries in her happy voice after serving her customer, coming round to pull Harry into a tight hug, as if they hadn’t seen each other the day before.  “How are you?” She squeezes his bum cheekily, making him throw his head back in laughter.

“I’m good, you?” He chuckles as he pulls his apron around himself, starting to tug off his beanie before Barbara shakes her head at him, telling him to keep it on, save putting on a hair net.

“I’m good, thank you.  I’ve got a new recipe to try out, I saw it in one of those silly newspapers my husband buys but doesn’t bother to read!” Harry grins at the fond roll of her eyes when she talks about her husband.  How despite everything she loves him with all of her heart because she makes him happy beyond belief.

“It was inside of a glossy magazine inside of it,” She continues, running a cloth over the countertop, as if it wasn’t clean before she did it.  “But I didn’t like it very much when I tried to make it, so I’ve been tweaking it to make it taste like anything other than cardboard,” Harry laughs at the blunt comment, grinning when she doesn’t seem to see what’s wrong with it.

“Anyway, I thought you and Zayn might like some, when he comes round to pick you up later.” She smiles, ducking into the back room and tugging at Harry’s hand to drag him into the back to show him the cakes she’s got lined up on a baking tray, ready to go into the oven.

“He doesn’t pick me up,” Harry blushes his forehead on Barbara’s shoulder to avoid her knowing eyes as she giggles lightly.  “We just meet each other when I leave work.”

She nods, humouring him before she’s battling his white lies away.  “Of course, you meet when he walks the complete opposite way home.” She ruffles Harry’s hair when he ducks his face into her neck, groaning at her, lavender from her perfume shooting up his nostrils.

“Barbara!” He whines, feeling like a small child as she laughs at him, her hand a steady weight on his back as she strokes her hand down the expanse of it.

“N’awh, duck, don’t worry about it! I think it’s adorable; I really do.” Harry smiles but still refuses to raise his head from her shoulder in fear his cheeks with darken in an even deeper blush.  “You should be happy to know someone goes out of their way like that for you, I know I would.”

“I am happy,” Harry whispers, lifting his head off of his boss’ shoulder to look her in the eye, a smile littering his face when he sees Zayn’s smile in his mind’s eye.  “He’d probably love to try them,” He flicks his wrist towards them.  “What are they anyway?”

“He needs to get something down him; he was a stick the last time that I saw him!  Does that boy ever eat?” Harry nods in Zayn’s defence, thinking of the two bags of Haribos that he, Zayn and Louis ate last night, followed by the bag of popcorn, all in the space of an hour.

“Now, if only I could eat and look like that,” Barbara says wistfully before jumping back into her conversation about her new creations.  “Anyway, they’re banoffee pie fingers, with a pastry base and toffee shavings on top,”

She grins, admiring her first batch before she’s reaching out to put them in the large oven, fingers toying with the knobs to get the desired settings and temperature.  “Or they will be, when I get them finished.”

“They’ll be ace,” Harry praises, pressing a kiss to her cheek before bouncing back out onto the shop floor to take his first customer of the day’s order, smiling wide when he notices it’s Niall. 

“Hey, Ni,” He grins, waving at his blonde friend, before frowning at the black bags strung high under his eyes.  “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Niall’s voice sounds croaky, as if he’s getting a cold, as he pulls his coat tighter to his body, his hands wrapped in thick gloves, hair tousled by the wind outside the shop.  “Erm, can I have a jam donut please, Haz?”

Harry sets about instantly making his friend’s order, slipping a gingerbread man inside of the bag to accompany Niall’s donut.  “60p, please?” Niall passes his change across the counter looking glum even when he’s biting into his food. 

“Niall?” Niall’s eyes flicker to Harry’s watching him with large doe eyes.  “You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”

Niall sighs, the life rushing out of his lungs as he does so, nibbling half-heartedly on the sugar-coated outside of his donut, licking the leaking jam off of his fingers, trying to put off the inevitable.  “Ni?”

“I don’t really know what’s wrong,” Niall starts, cocking his hip to lean against the counter.  “I just feel a bit, well, rubbish recently, that’s all.”

Harry frowns, leaning his forearms on the countertop and watching his friend nibble away at the food that he’d usually finish in mere seconds.  “I just have no motivation to do anything.  I haven’t even been in the mood to see Liam at lunchtimes for coffee for the past three days.”

Harry cocks his head confused, because Niall always sees Liam at lunchtime for a coffee.  Zayn states that it’s a kind of tradition between them that has been occurring since the pair of them got jobs at their respective work places.

“Maybe you’re tired?” Harry tries, nibbling on his bottom lip as he tries to come up with another reason for his blonde friend’s lack of motivation.

“I have been sleeping, but not properly.  Like, I can lay in bed and close my eyes and I’ll know I’ve dropped off to sleep, but it won’t be proper sleep,” Niall frowns at himself, picking at a loose thread on his jeans.  “And I’ll wake up feeling like I’ve been awake all night, not like I’ve slept right through.”

“Maybe you’re stressed, then?” Harry says as Barbara walks back into the shop front, smiling at Niall and waving as if she’s known him for years.

“You’re stressed?” Barbara asks, sliding up next to Harry and placing a hand on the countertop.  “Maybe you should ‘reach out’,” Both Harry and Niall watch Barbara with confused eyes, waiting for her to continue and further enlighten them on what ‘reaching out’ is. 

“My daughter does this relaxation course,” She explains. “There are 10 steps, I believe, and she finds that ‘reaching out’ is the best one,” Niall and Harry continue to watch her confused as he potters around the back of the counter, starting to fill up the shelves with freshly baked goods. 

“It’s where you just talk about everything that you’re feeling,” Niall and Harry finally nod, beginning to understand and letting the woman explain further.  “It’s like piling off all of what you feel into the open to get it off of your shoulders and help you to relax,”

She ducks into the back room, the sound of an oven creaking open before she comes in carrying a tray of flapjack, cutting it into rectangles and then lining them up inside the glass counter.  “My daughter also says that by doing that, she’s able to get help from the people around her, as they try to solve their problems together, because they’ve all experienced what each other are feeling.”

“What?  So they like talk to get rid of stress?” Harry asks, checking he understood what it is that Barbara is trying to say.

“Yes, they talk about what’s troubling them so that they can help themselves and each other.  She calls her friends her ‘support system’,” Barbara smiles, eyes shining.  “She also does meditating, but I view that as an excuse for people to sit in silence and breathe through their noses, as they try to impersonate a Buddha.”

Niall laughs loud at Barbara’s comment whilst Harry hits at her shoulder lightly, telling her to be quiet when a hippy looking couple walk in, looking like the sort that would mediate before he serves them quickly, leaving Niall and Barbara tittering between themselves at Barbara’s comment.

“You, are honestly off of your heads, you truly are,” He whispers to Niall and Barbara when the couple have left with their cinnamon whirls in their hands, munching happily, merely receiving chuckles in response.  

Harry sidles up to stand back next to Barbara and listen to her and Niall chatter freely before Niall’s attention falls on the clock on the back wall of the shop and he’s darting from the bakery, apologises spewing from his lips about being late for work if he doesn’t get off now.

“He was nice,” Barbara smiles, picking up the brown paper bakery bag he left on the counter and binning it before wiping at the countertop to make it shine.  “What was his name?”

“Niall,” Harry smiles just as a wave of customers come into the shop, demanding food that Barbara’s yet to make, due to the fact she was chattering with Niall.  Though she’s fast on her feet as she bakes the necessary goods, quickly filling the shelves back up with the desired delicacies.

And before the pair of them know it, the day is nearly over and the final bunch of customers are coming into the shop in the form of school students, slipping into the bakery for their after school snack and leaving with pastry crumbs on their upper lips.

“We worked well today,” Barbara grins, coming out of the back with a tray of what must only be the banoffee pie fingers, perfectly decorated whilst Harry slips the sign on the door to closed, smiling as the sun starts to fall in the sky across the horizon, bathing the shops opposite in a pink glow.  “It was a good day.”

Harry smiles, his hands coming round to his back to pull the tight knot out of his apron to get it off, before his hands are being engulfed by another pair and hot breath is dancing up his neck as the knot is undone.  “Afternoon, Haz,”

Harry falls back into Zayn’s arms, kissing at his throat as he tips his head back to look up at his raven haired boyfriend.  “Afternoon, Zaynie,” Zayn frowns at the nickname, bringing his hand up to Harry’s mouth to cover it, smirking when Harry merely licks at his hand in protest.

“Not Zaynie,” Zayn whispers, eyes gleaming cheekily as he watches Harry grin up at him behind his hand.  “Hey Barbara!”

Said woman grins up at him as she slides the banoffee pie fingers she made into a box, making sure they go inside correctly and don’t become broken.  “Hello, Zayn, I hope you had a good day at work,” She says, hands coming up to pull the hair net off of her hair and untie her apron.

“Here’s some banoffee pie fingers for you and Harry to try,” She pushes the box towards where Zayn and Harry are at the counter.  “I was thinking of making them for the Christmas rush that’s bound to come in soon.”

“It’s getting closer, isn’t it, Christmas,” He says, mind whirring with thoughts as he removes his hand from Harry’s mouth, wiping it down Harry’s cheek in retaliation.  “And thank you, Barbara, they look lovely.”

“Such a charmer,” Harry snickers, reaching into the white box to pull one out and drop it into his mouth, sighing when the delicacy hits his tongue.  “This is absolutely brilliant!” He near screams, his mouth full of food, making Zayn roll his eyes and chuckle at his boyfriend.  “You shouldn’t sell them; you should just make them all for me.  I’m happy to get fat if it means I get to eat these all day long!”

Zayn slips one of the treats between his lips, understanding fully what Harry’s jabbering on about when the cream brushes along his tongue.  “Harry’s right,” He begins, swallowing before he talks, unlike Harry.  “These are gorgeous.”

“You’re gorgeous,” Harry whispers, planting a banoffee pie tasting kiss to Zayn’s lips, making Zayn lick the secondary taste off of his lips, he loves it that much and doesn’t care that Barbara’s watching their antics.  “They really are, Barbara.”

“Thanks boys,” Barbara smiles, cheeks dancing with a pink blush as she takes a bite of her own banoffee finger. “They aren’t bad are they?” She grins, licking at her fingers.  “Another recipe for you to learn then, Harry.”

“That means you have to make them at home for me,” Zayn chuckles reaching for another finger, not caring that it’ll spoil his tea later; he just loves them that much.

“Of course I’ll make them for you, Zee.” Harry grins, stealing a bite of Zayn’s banoffee finger and smiling innocently at his boyfriend as he chews. “Anyway, we had better let you go, Barbara.  I’ll come in early tomorrow to sweep the floors.”

“You will do no such thing, Harry.” She warns, pointing her finger at the curly haired boy as she pushes him and Zayn out of the bakery doors.  “You will have a lie in.  It’s a Friday, have a lazy morning and come in during the afternoon, it’s normally slow in the morning and I’ll be able to deal with it.”

“You sure?” Harry asks, stealing Zayn’s scarf from around his neck to wrap it around his own throat, trading his gloves with Zayn because he knows he always gets cold hands, but always manages to forget his own pair of gloves. 

Zayn grins at him, tying the end of his scarf around Harry’s neck carefully to finish off his look, before he slips Harry’s gloves onto his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists, loving the fact that Harry’s gloves are too big for him and that the material bunches up around the joints of his fingers.

“Of course I’m sure,” Barbara grins, her eyes flickering between the two boys, noting the heart eyes that are alive in each of their orbs.  “Now get off home, Harold.”

 

Harry and Zayn laugh at Barbara, slipping out into the street, grinning at each other before setting off hand in hand back to Harry’s apartment; no need to ask if Zayn’s going to go back to his tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've still looking for chapter names, people:)
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know - don't be Silent Readers!<3


	55. Strange and even stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That word mark is getting very, very large...
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to my cheerleader, MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh - love you<3

Niall chances turning his phone back on as he’s piling Cheerios into his bowl for breakfast - dousing them in milk as he goes - trying to pull his attention away from the slowly illuminating screen as the battery bounces to life inside the plastic casing.

He forces himself to eat his breakfast before he grabs at the small electronic, chewing subconsciously quicker than normal in his haste to check his phone, spilling droplets of milk down both himself and onto the kitchen floor, moping them up with his sock-clad foot as he munches.

Once the majority of his breakfast is in his mouth on its way to his stomach, not down the front of his pyjama top, he taps at the small screen, watching it like a hawk for any messages, having little care for the ones that have Harry, Zayn or Liam’s names attached to them.

He scrolls through the near endless stream of messages, not bothering to read them unless he sees a message that isn’t asking him if he’s okay, why he’s not answering his phone or when he became socially incapable.

When he reaches the end, his forehead crinkling as his heart drops in his chest, feeling heavy within his rib cage, he abandons his phone on the counter top, scooting around his apartment to get dressed and ready to go out.

He needs to get out.

The air is cool, reminding him of the ever-nearing holiday, whereby he’ll have to board a plane to allow him to see his family, that’s all those miles away so that they can laugh along together as if they’ve been in and out of each other’s lives forever, as if it’s not just a once yearly visit.

“Where’ve you been then, you bloody social recluse?” Liam jokes as Niall slips through the coffee shop door, drinking in the scent of coffee that’s floating through the air.

“Work,” He mutters, sliding up onto the counter to rest his head against Liam’s shoulder, feeling the energy continue to drain from his form the longer he keeps his eyes open.  “Lots of work.  Hate work.”

Liam laughs, bringing his hand up to ruffle at Niall’s hair, and Niall hasn’t even got the energy to tell him to get lost, let alone knock his hands from his hair.

“You’ve had your hair dyed again,” Liam grins, fingering at the strands and watching them fall between his fingers, due to their multitude of layers.  “What’s wrong?” The frown is evident in Liam’s tone; Niall doesn’t even need to raise his head to figure that out, so he doesn’t.

Niall huffs out a breath, ducking his head further into Liam’s neck, breathing in the comforting scent of Liam’s skin, splattered with a subtle hint of foreign substance. 

“You don’t smell like you, Li.” Niall whispers against the taut skin of Liam’s neck, feeling the heat dance down the column of Liam’s throat from his cheeks.  “You’re blushing, aren’t you, Li?” Niall feels like he’s smiling for the first time in forever, if he’s being honest.  “It’s Alex’s isn’t it?”

Niall takes Liam’s lack of reply as an affirmative, sitting up straight when the bell above the door rings, breaking the silence that lack of customers had caused. 

He hops off of the counter instantly, sliding into his usual seat near the counter, kicking the chair opposite himself out for Liam when he ducks from behind the counter, having served his respective customer.

“What’s up, Nialler?” Liam slides a coffee in Niall’s direction across the table, sipping at his own as he flicks a smile up at Alex behind the table, who had come off of his break to be able to cover Liam.  He loves that boy, he really does.

Niall shrugs his shoulders, pulling his coffee closer to him and wrapping his hands around the porcelain of the mug to warm up his cold hands.  “I don’t really know,” Niall whispers, feeling a slight weight rise off of his shoulders – Barbara was right.

“You don’t really know?” Liam asks, frowning at his friend, because he doesn’t understand what he means; how he can look like he hasn’t slept in days, yet not know why.

Niall nods his head, lifting his coffee to his lips, letting it run down his throat, regardless of the fact it scolded his tongue upon first contact.  “Yeah, I don’t know what’s wrong, but I know something is.”  He rubs a hand over his eyes, melting into his own palm.  “I just feel, well,” He eyes the woman with a small child on her hip enter the shop, deciding to change his choice of words.  “Rubbish.”

Liam snickers, following Niall’s eyes to the woman, and understanding Niall’s hesitation with his words.  “Maybe you’re tired? You look tired.”

The blonde boy flicks his eyes across at his best friend, quirking an eyebrow.  “Is that your way of telling me I look,” The woman’s yet to leave.  “Rubbish?”

The twitch of Liam’s lips tells Niall that that was most definitely his idea.

“That’s what Harry said when I told him I was feeling rubbish the other day as well,” Niall pouts, rubbing at his face, as if trying to scrub away the black eyes that hang heavy under his eyes.  “I am tired, but I shouldn’t be.  I’ve slept right through every night for the past week, yet I feel like I’ve not slept a wink at all.”

“Tried sleeping pills?” Even Liam doubts the usefulness of his suggestion, but after sitting with a constant frown tattooed to his lips for a full minute in silence with his best friend, he feels he needs to try _something_.

“Nah, mate,” Niall chuckles, reaching across the table to thump his fist against Liam’s forearm, a grin on his lips.  “Getting close to it though, now that you mention it, anyway!”

Liam laughs along before he turns serious.  “Don’t bother; there may be side effects to them.” Niall grins at Liam but he raises his eyebrow towards his blonde friend, pulling on his Daddy title.  “I’m not joking, Niall.”

Niall sticks his hands in the air, grinning like a mad man as he surrenders. “Yeah, I know, Li.” He takes a sip of his drink, letting the liquid energy plummet down his throat, warming his soul and trying to fight of the slouch in his posture that tiredness has caused.

They sit with a gentle silence between them whilst Alex potters about behind the counter, grinning across at Liam when he gets the chance, before the dark haired male is passing a plate of biscuits towards them from behind the counter, munching on one he stole before he passed it over. 

“But you’re okay though, yeah?” Liam asks, voice thick with concern as he watches Niall’s fingers barely twitch to get one of the biscuits that have been presented to him, let alone eat one like he normally would.  It’s as if he doesn’t know that they’re there, despite the fact they just passed straight under his nose as Alex placed them on the tabletop.

“Yeah, been better, but I’m not too bad.” Liam’s tense shoulders drop instantly, falling so that they’re no longer positioned to impair his hearing.  “Must have been those drinks on Saturday; been feeling a bit shit since then.”

“Since Saturday?”  Niall nods an affirmative, waving at Alex when he catches his eye from behind the counter before he’s shuffling his feet under the table, leaning across the table, completely ignoring the biscuits, nudging at Liam’s chest to get his actual attention instead of the glossy eyed, far off look he’s currently receiving.

“Li, it’s fine,” Liam frowns but Niall pushes at his lip, forcing it back into a straight line, a near smile in comparison to what it had been, really.  “Honestly.” Niall’s eyes darken in warning, showing Liam he’s not lying, forcing Liam to pull in his lower lip of his own accord.  “Anyway, it’s no big deal.  It’ll get better; I’ll sleep all weekend to make up for it.”

“I thought you wanted us to go out again?”  Niall shakes his head, running his finger around the rim of his mug to steal the final dregs off of the porcelain, lifting his finger to his mouth to lick off the leftover liquid he’s collected on his digit.

“Haven’t got the energy, Li,” Niall sounds as depressed as he looks.  “We’ll go out next weekend, I promise.” A smirk lines itself on Niall’s face as he leans across the tabletop.  “Plus, this way, you can get cosy with Alexander this weekend instead.” He quirks his eyebrow suggestively, making Liam’s cheeks flush as he eyes the oblivious male just meters away from them.

“Niall!” He whines, pushing his friend away as he buries his face in his hands, trying to sense when his blush starts to fade from crimson to a pastel pink, but it’s a long way off, if the heat below his hands is any indication.  “Get lost!”

Said boy’s head is thrown back at that, a proper laugh tumbling from his lips and splitting his sides as he rocks back and forth in his chair, eyes squeezed tightly shut as the laughs burst from him.

“Consider me gone, Li,”  Niall cackles, his eyebrow in a permanent suggestive arch as he rises from his seat, saying goodbye to Alex before turning back to Liam, smirking around his words.  “If you want to start getting cosy before lunchtime, that is.”

Niall only just misses being whacked by Liam’s flailing arm as he buries his head deeper into his arms, sensing Alex watching him as Niall’s cackles quieten into silence as the door shuts on his figure.

“You okay, Li?” Alex asks and Liam’s automatic response is to raise his head to find the source of the voice, his cheeks still dancing with a mottled flush.

 He hates the near smirk he receives from Alex as he leans against the counter, as if he _knows_.  He hopes Alex doesn’t know, he really, really does.

“Yeah,” Liam mutters, brushing down his clothing for creases before he carries his and Niall’s used mugs into the sink, leaving them by the side of it as he turns around.  “I’m good, you?”

Alex’s hands are on either side of his hips instantly, his face coming up close enough to Liam that he can see the speckles of silver littering his blue eyes, dancing in the sky of them.  “I’m good,”

Liam holds his breath as Alex ducks his head down to nose at the column of Liam’s throat, lips light against the flesh as he goes, breathing him in before pressing a light kiss to Liam’s birthmark, eyes shining when they come up to meet Liam’s own.  “Really good.”

Alex quirks his lips up into a smile, leaving Liam to catch his breath as he addresses a customer, preparing their order around Liam’s breathless frame, his hands coming out to touch occasionally at Liam’s hips when they pass, making bolts of electricity course up his spine and cause his body to tingle deliciously, even after Alex’s touches have dissipated.

Now he understands what Zayn’s always blabbering on about; love does do strange things to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and I can't wait for tomorrow - you'll all love me! I'll be getting marriage proposals from the lot of you when I post it;)
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like to<3
> 
> Chapter names, if you please?


	56. Answers in my nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm waiting for the marriage proposals...
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to the best cheerleader in the world, MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3

The dreams continue; flashes of fierce green and midnight lashings of black dancing behind his eyes, tormenting his brain as lightening strikes of teeth splinter into his vision, breaking up the images in his head, forcing him into a cold sweat that coils throughout his body.

His fingers clenching deep into the thin sheets of cotton beneath him, skin paling to hide itself within the neatly-wound threads, nails catching on the loose pieces that the daily tugging has caused, each time Louis closes his eyes.

The near-burning pain fizzles in his chest the deeper and darker the dreams become, tormenting smirks and self-satisfied groans hammering inside of his brain through the chaos of broken memories; shards of danger that slash mercilessly inside of his head.

Cackles that make the hairs on Louis’ body stand on end, like soldiers standing proud for their country, never falling around the devastating blows around them; because Louis falls.

He falls every time. 

His mind’s vault opening, the lock being picked open by sly hands that make a chill run up and down Louis’ spine, his stomach flipping so much that he wonders how he hasn’t yet woken himself up in a sorry pile of his own bile.

Shadows flicker into and out of his gaze as his mind fills with images, tearing them apart and sticking them all back together in an image that was harder to handle than the original. 

Throwing more pain into the picture, more horror as he’s tossed about more roughly than he remembers, a splitting pain coursing through his abdomen as he’s dragged back through that night all over again.

Louis wakes with hot tears bubbling from his eyes, clouding his vision and tumbling down his cheeks, his chest huffing and puffing as he forces air that doesn’t want to come down into his lungs, forcing himself to breathe, to get clench his eyes so tightly that all he can see is blackness; not the blonde that had splattered into his dreams tonight, replacing the dense black with a brightness that didn’t quite fit. 

That Louis didn’t want to fit.

He reaches over to his bedside table, pulling his phone off of the battered tabletop and into his hand, thumbing numbly at the screen as he tries to see through the masses of tears that continue to glide down his face.

Niall.

He taps at the contact, sucking in a breath to steady himself as he works to compose something that will convey his thoughts to the blonde boy and also be legible, wanting to know, to understand what Niall’s doing and why. 

Why he’s being so _nice_ and _kind_ and _considerate_.  Why he hadn’t just rolled his eyes at Louis’ mental antics on Saturday night and instead had acted as if he cared. 

Because caring isn’t something that Louis can trust right now, not when he doesn’t understand why it’s happening; that luxury was pulled right from under his feet two weeks ago.

“Hello?”

The breaths that Louis had been trying to drag into his lungs immediately slither out of his organs, zooming from them so fast that Louis feels dizzy, his phone the only thing that’s stopping him from tipping over in his bed.

“Lou?”

Louis’ eyes zero in on the phone, with it’s little green phone symbol on the screen, Niall’s empty contact card bright against the pixels as Louis watches it, a lump forming in his throat.

“Lou, you okay?”

He pulls his shoulders back, preparing himself as he tries to get oxygen into his body, to get his brain to work, to function in any way that it can.

“Lou?”

Niall’s voice is quiet and timid as it rattles over the small speaker of Louis’ phone, making him sound different, and Louis doesn’t like it; he likes the cheekiness of Niall’s voice, the thick of his Irish accent.

“Yeah?”

Louis nibbles at his thumb nail as he presses his phone to his ear, hearing the breath that Niall blows down the phone.

“You’re not dead, then?”

Niall sounds playful and cheerful, like he had back at the pub last week, now that Louis’ got the phone to his ear, listening intently to Niall as he works to form a coherent sentence himself.

“No, no, I’m not dead.”

Louis chuckles a bit when he hears the snort of a laugh from Niall from across the satellites high up in the sky and down his phone line.

“I’m glad.”

Why Louis smiles at that he’ll never know, he just needs to say his words before he burst out into a fit of mental cries.

“Erm, I’m sorry.”

His own voice sounds foreign to him as he says the words, picking at the loose threads he’s pulled from his duvet cover with his weeks’ worth of bad dreams.

“What are you sorry for, Lou?”

Niall sounds as confused as Louis feels.  How can Niall not know what he’s sorry for?  It’s been eating Louis up for the past three days since he sent the text to Niall; since he more or less told Niall not to even try to get into his life before trying to.

“For - for what I said, I didn’t mean it.  I h-have a lot going on right now and I don’t know why I did it, but you don’t deserve that.”

Louis pats himself on the back for there only being two cases of stuttering in his sentence, though Niall falls silent on the other end of the line, making him bite at his nails nervously and pull his glasses onto his nose because his eyes are starting to hurt without them on.

“I don’t know what it is that you think that you’ve said, but I forgive you.”

Louis pushes his glasses up his nose, biting at his lip before he speaks.  He needs to word this right, he rather likes Niall and he needs to be sure.  Of what, he’s not sure, but he needs to be sure of something.

“What I sent to you via text.”

Niall sucks in a breath on the line at the whisper Louis emits, as he tries to help Niall understand what he’s apologising for.

“Oh, that,”

Louis’ heart sinks when Niall leaves it at that, a long stagnant pause sitting between them, that’s causing Louis to kick sadly at his dishevelled duvet cover - all crumpled and folded in on itself – until it lands on the floor in a messy bundle at the end of his bed.

“Yeah, that.”

Louis sighs, leaning back against his headboard as he watches the sun start to fall in the sky, and Louis tells himself he needs to get his sleeping patterns back on track; he’s been eating breakfast more or less after dinner every day this week and sleeping until Harry drags him from his bed.

“Don’t worry about that.  It doesn’t matter; I mean I don’t know what I did, but it doesn’t matter now - it’s all over.  We can start again.  We can start again, right?”

Louis sits upright in his bed, forcing himself off of the headrest so fast that he feels his neck click uncomfortably, but it doesn’t hold enough with him for him to care right now.

“Yeah, we can start again.”

He feels like a teenage girl with the way he’s jumping at all of Niall’s suggestions and clinging to more or less every word he speaks.

“Good.  You’re fun, Lou; I didn’t want to give that up before I even got to know you properly.”

The breath sticks in his throat again and Louis is back to not knowing how to respond, whether he wants this, wants to put himself up for this when he hasn’t even asked the question he wants to.

“Can I ask you one thing?”

Even Louis stills at the serious tone that laces around his words, breaking the previously joyous nature of the conversation, his tongue knotted in his mouth as he waits for Niall’s response; literally dreading the highly likely bad answer that his question will receive.

“Course you can, Lou.”

Niall sounds like he’s grinning, no doubt laughing at Louis, and he feels shakes rippling through his bones, hard enough to shatter them as he pieces together his words into a sentence.

“Is your hair naturally blonde?”

He thumps his hand against his shin in frustration at himself, for changing the question that he had hung up and ready to be answered by Niall in his mind.

“Nah, Zayn dyes it for me.”

Niall laughs down the line, a tinny version of the laugh that met Louis’ ears frequently last Saturday, falling on his ears as his cheeks burn both at being laughed at and in anger at himself and his lack of balls.

“I thought so, it’s nice though.”

He thumps his leg again, blush spreading down his neck.

“Really?  Why thank you.”

Niall seems to laugh at a lot of what Louis says, he likes it.  He stills at that thought, eyes widening with the realisation of the thoughts that he banned himself from creating prancing to the front of his mind.

“Yeah.  Erm, I’ve got to go, Niall.”

He leans his head back against the headrest of his bed, clenching his eyes shut as he tilts his head towards the ceiling.

“Oh okay, I’d better let you go then, Lou.  Night.”

Louis’ thumb hovers over the end call button as he whispers his goodbye across the line, breath whooshing out of his lungs as he clicks at it, disconnecting the call.

Niall’s laughter still rings loud in Louis’ ears as he falls down onto his bed, eyelids shut tightly to conceal his eyes as he tries to calm the rapid thrum of his heartbeat below his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this?
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know - don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	57. Midnight Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If only people actually texted using proper English...
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to the one and only MadameStylinsonofthNoueh - I'm still going to fit in your luggage, my friend. I refuse not to;)

Niall’s eyes drop down to the phone in his palm, warm from usage, grinning as he drops it on the arm of the sofa he’s sprawled across, once he’s shot off a text to Zayn.

His phone buzzes mere seconds later and he’s all thumbs when he comes to pick it back up off of the fabric, eyes leaving the TV screen as he scans over the small pixelated words.

‘So glad mate :) Dunno what was up with him, but at least he’s over it now! Thought you were off out tonight?’

‘No, why?’

Zayn’s slow on his response, forcing Niall to drop his attention back on the TV, watching as yet another repeat of Midsomer Murders drags its way across the screen; not that Niall can say he’s seen it when he’s sat trying to hopelessly pick out the culprit.

‘Dunno, thought you were gonna plan something after what you said last Saturday.’

Niall wracks his brain for what he supposedly said on Saturday, but if he’s being honest all he remembers is the whisky mist and the laugher that had rattled through the air of the pub around them as they chattered freely, alcohol tingling in their veins.

‘Shattered, mate.’

‘Awh, poor Nialler.’

He frowns at Zayn’s reply, thumbing out a emoticon sticking it’s tongue out, sending that off just as Detective Barnaby wraps a man – who Niall had believe to be completely innocent - in cuffs, dragging him off to the station under suspicion of murder.

Niall’s phone falls silent when Zayn shoots an identical emoticon to him and he can’t be bothered to reply, fully set on watching the following episode of Midsomer from start to finish, so that he can catch the criminal before Barnaby even knows a crime has been committed.

He fails miserably, watching the episode with his attention on his phone instead as he thumbs at Louis’ contact, debating whether or not to text, since Louis said he had to go when they spoke earlier, but he does it anyway.

‘Can I ask you one thing, also?’

He feels more and more childish the longer he’s left without a reply, without any contact to his more or less spur of the moment text that he’d typed out, deleted and re-typed no less than five times.

The credits start rolling for Midsomer, informing Niall that Jonathan Creek is coming on next, and as much as he loves the guy, he can’t be bothered, he really can’t.

He rolls into bed not much later, his mouth littered with the taste of fresh mint as he begins slipping himself into his pyjamas, due to the cold outside and the fact his heating has broken down _again_ and now he is indefinitely stuck on the waiting list until February, according to the caretaker. 

He hates himself for gloating about his good luck when it was fixed not long ago; if he hadn’t he would no doubt not be wrapped in so much clothing that he’s wondering when he joined an expedition to the North Pole.

‘Ask away.’

Niall startles when his phone rattles against the wood of his bedside table, making his body jump up beneath the covers and peek his eyes out from the top of the duvet to check that there’s no murderers hanging about his open bedroom door before he notices the gleam of his phone screen.

He should have planned a question to ask, he really should have.

‘Is your hair naturally brunette?’

He pats himself on his back for that question, now he doesn’t seem quite as much a fool, as he does an idiot.  It’s not quite a winning position to be in, but he’s been in worse.

‘Nah, magical pixies come and paint it for me as I sleep.’

Niall snorts at Louis’ answer, loving the fact said boy is humouring him and not just dismissing him as a complete and utter idiot when he can probably tell that Niall knows his hair is naturally brunette.

‘Do the fairies come and cut it then as well?;)’

He snuggles deeper beneath his sheets, the light of his phone screen the only thing that’s lighting up the darkness that being under the masses of a heavy duvet causes.

‘If I told you, I’d have to kill you.’

Niall grins, shifting in his bed so that his toes are tucked up in the material of the duvet to keep himself warm and stop the heat from escaping down the end of the bed frame. 

‘I can handle that.’

‘I couldn’t though, sorry.’

His eyes gloss over as he reads Louis’ text, reading and re-reading the words as he tries to take in what they mean.

‘I guess that’s a good thing; that you wouldn’t be able to kill me, means I have one less thing to worry about in life.’

‘That it does, Nialler, that it does :)’

Niall decides he likes that Louis calls him Nialler, he may have only done it once, but he decides he likes it nonetheless.

‘I wouldn’t be able to kill you either, just so you know :)’

He looks across at his bedside table, noting the bright LED numbers of his alarm clock are screaming that it’s edging close to midnight, but he honestly doesn’t care.  It’s Sunday tomorrow, he can sleep in, no problem there.

‘That’s good to know :)  It’s rather late, Nialler, got to sleep - I’m shattered :( I’ll talk to you later, yeah?’

There’s the problem with his previously planned idea; Louis’ dependency on sleep. 

He buries his head in his arms, just to put off texting back, wanting this to last just a little bit longer.  The fact that he’s able to talk freely to Louis again begin the reason he’s more or less clinging to straws at the minute.

‘Yeah, mate.  Good night! :)’

He scolds himself for his text sounding as depressed as he feels when he had tried to hide his disappointment at Louis having to go to sleep.  He soon wipes the disappointment from his mind when he receives a smiley face from said pixie-dyed brunette and a wish goodnight. 

He sleeps happy then with those words scrawled in his brain, a smile lifting his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all enjoying the Nouis;)
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	58. Good things come in pairs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close to 4,000 hits - you guys are the absolute best in the world, honestly!
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3
> 
> If you want a chapter title within this story, submit your idea via the comments and I shall choose the one I like the best:) You'll obviously be given credit for your ideas if I pick them. Good luck!<3

Niall slides out of his bed on Monday - before his alarm goes off - feeling refreshed and ready to face the day, a mood that doesn’t go unnoticed by his sleepy-eyed workmate.

“ _How_ are you happy?  We’re at _work_.”  Ed groans as he slips himself out of the staffroom by Niall’s side before dropping into his till point, thumbing in his details on the keypad, Niall mirroring his actions. “What _is_ there to be happy about?”

“Dunno,” Niall says, smiling around his words, which makes Ed throw him a disbelieving look across from his station.  “Just feel good, I guess.”

“You’re rubbish, Niall.” Ed frowns, making Niall laugh at his friend before turning his attention to the customer at the end of his check out, noting he’s not allowed to start serving yet but he’s happy to help them load their goods onto the conveyor.

“Would you like some help?” Niall asks, watching as the elderly customer’s hands slide over all of the products he’s picking out, as if he hasn’t got the physical strength to keep hold of them.

The old man nods, his back arched like a swan’s neck, even when he tries to stand, and it makes Niall’s heartache seeing him look like that; regardless of the fact he doesn’t even know him.

Niall reaches across his till point into the man’s basket, loading the items onto the conveyor carefully so that they don’t fall over or become damaged as the man’s grip continues to fall from his chosen items. 

“Here, I’ll do it, it’s fine.” Niall smiles and the man mutters about the fact that he should do it because it’s his shopping but Niall insists, lifting the remaining items onto the belt just before his boss is telling all the cashiers to start working.

“Thank you,” The man’s voice is croaky yet endearing as he thanks Niall, placing his items into his carrier bags with shaking hands before Niall’s trying to help him, leaving behind the lighter objects for the man to put in as he deals with the heavier ones.

“Anytime,” Niall flicks his eyes across at the screen for the man’s total bill, reaching out for a coupon booklet to scan the token Jade did for him not that long ago, reducing the man’s total cost.  “£5.86 please.”

The man counts out his pennies on his crumpled five pound note into Niall’s hand and Niall can’t help but grin at the man; he’s brilliant, whispering his counting under his breath to check he’s correct before looking up at Niall with eyes as youthful as his own.

“Thank you, young man,” The man grins, reaching across to squeeze Niall’s shoulder before setting off with his carrier bags, the weight obviously heavy in his hands as it causes his back to arch deeper, and in Niall’s opinion more painfully than it had originally been.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Niall’s out of his swivel chair in seconds, grabbing the bags from the man, placing a gentle hand on his back to try to bring him back to a near upright position.

“Greg?” He calls across to where Greg’s standing with Jade behind the magazine counter, catching his attention.  “Can you work my till for a minute, I’ll be back soon.”

Greg’s gaze flickers to the man and his shopping bags in Niall’s hand, nodding in response and slipping into Niall’s seat, serving his next customer as Niall walks with the man, his hand a constant weight on his elder’s lower back.

“Are you parked in the car park?” Niall enquires, as they exit the store, the wind biting at his skin as it flaps the man’s scarf back behind him, like it would a superhero’s cape and Niall can’t help but wonder if this man had been one of the hero’s that helped save the country, many years ago.

“Yes, ‘m parked over there,” He points towards the end of the car park, near the outskirts by the road side, his fingers crooked with arthritis.  “I couldn’t get parked in a disabled space.”

Niall eyes the big, fancy cars that are taking up the disabled spaces closest to the store, noting they haven’t got any disabled badges displayed in their windows and feeling a sudden rush of hatred for the owners, for the fact they’ve made this poor man suffer because they couldn’t be bothered to walk a few more metres into the store.

They walk in silence, the plastic of the few bags of shopping the man has bought slicing into Niall’s skin slightly before they’re pulling up to the man’s car and he’s sliding the key into the lock to open it, patting the side of the car when the boot pops open for Niall to pile the shopping into.

“Thank you,” The man says, voice honest and heartfelt as he eyes Niall, his eyes twinkling with a hint of a younger self trying to get through to the surface, past all of the wrinkles that litter his face.  “Thank you so much, m’boy.”

“No problem,” Niall squeezes the man’s shoulder lightly with a grin plastered to his face as he directs the man into his car, his hands shaking as he slots the key into the ignition and he does up his seatbelt.  “I’ll see what I can do about the disabled spaces.”

The engine rumbles to life underneath the man just as Niall shuts the creaking door, smiling as he waves the old man off, watching his car rattle out of the car park and out into the road, driving back home; potentially to pull up outside a home that bares no sense of life to him, if the lack of a ring on his finger says means anything.

Without a person to smile at when he walks through the door, no one to hold hands with as he watches the TV late at night, trying to rid his bones of the chill that had seeped into them when he brought back their food for the week that they’d paid for with their pension. 

“That was really nice, what you did just then,” Niall spins around on his heels, his thoughts disappearing as he blushes at the ideas that had been dancing around his mind; of how he doesn’t want that to be him, as his eyes fall on a blue he hasn’t seen in a week, and he grins.

“Hey, Lou,” Said boy smiles back small, the grin not stretching his lips as wide as Niall believes it could.  “What’re you doing here?”

“Haz told me to shop,” Louis frowns, pulling his jacket closer to himself and Niall sees the holes in his jogging bottoms, the thread-bare tips of his shoes and feels a rush of cold travel up his bones in sympathy for him. “So here I am.”

Niall smiles, gesturing for Louis to follow him as he sets off back towards the shop, the wind cool on his skin, but no doubt icy on Louis’ bared flesh.  “Let’s get inside, it’s cold out here.  You look frozen.”

Louis shrugs, the rattle of his teeth an indication that he’s maybe not as immune to the cold as he makes out to be before they’re setting off down the tarmac of the car park and in through the shop’s sliding doors.

The constant shake of Louis’ shoulders eases to a halt when the doors shut behind them, trapping them in the fruit and vegetable aisle and it makes Niall’s grin lazily at the brunette.

“So, you’ve got to shop?” Louis sighs as he nods his head, digging a hand into his jacket pocket and pulling out a crumpled list in Harry’s messy script.  “Do you not own actual food?” Niall asks, confused as he reads the long list of items, wondering what Louis _does_ have in his kitchen cupboards if he’s been sent to buy all of this.

“Nah, not really,” Louis’ cheeks burn as he drops his head, watching his feet and trying to remind himself to find something else to wear on his feet that aren’t laden with holes the next time he leaves his house.

Louis doesn’t elaborate further and they just stand there, by the apple section, Niall watching Louis whilst Louis watches his feet.  “I could help you, if you want?”

Louis’ head rises upon Niall’s words, his eyes unsure as he watches the blonde, whilst Niall bites at his tongue, silently scolding himself for his strange outburst.

“Erm, yeah, that would be nice,” Louis’ cheeks darken in a tender blush as he speaks before his eyes are darting over Niall’s shoulder.  “But I think you’re wanted already.”

Niall’s eyebrows furrow as he hunts Louis’ face for an answer for as to what he means by that, but then a hand is falling onto his shoulder and making him jump and Louis giggle under his breath.

Niall grins despite himself when he hears the tinkling noise that escapes Louis’ lips.

“Niall, I said I owed you a favour, but I believe I’m paid up now.” Niall looks over his shoulder to see Greg and almost rolls his eyes; Greg’s been on his till for what, 10 minutes? The sod.

“Yeah,” Niall sighs just as Greg’s walking away, apparently not giving him a chance to argue the reasons why he has not fully paid Niall back yet.  “Sorry, Lou.  I’ve got to go but I’ll text you, yeah?”

Niall’s turning on his heels as he speaks and Louis is nodding as he grabs a basket from the stand by the door, fiddling with the handles as he lines them up in his palm. “Yeah, okay.  Bye Niall.”

Niall’s more or less fuming when he slides back into his till point, watching Greg flirt with Jade over at the magazine counter and sending him the finger telepathically because he needs this job and his boss is just inches away from Greg and he doesn’t dare risk it.

“If looks could kill,” Ed chuckles, fumbling with a pack of yoghurts his customer has decided to place on his conveyor.  “We’d all be dead.”

Niall ignores Ed’s laughter and instead turns to his customer, trying his hardest not to grimace when he sees the long stream of items lining his belt that he has to scan. 

“Would you like some help with your packing?” He bites at his tongue for how pissed off he sounds, but the woman doesn’t seem to notice as she picks at her nails, nodding in response to his question and Niall just wants to die; normally they say no. 

Why couldn’t she have said no?

His day’s more or less ruined now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and don't be Silent Readers - let me know your thoughts, please?<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	59. Weak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It sickens me to put my name on this; I swear my writing will get better, this was very rushed!
> 
> I'm still looking for chapter title names, if any of you are interested?
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to Sela_1D <3

The aisles of the supermarket are far too long, in Louis’ opinion.  They stretch on too far and they hold too many people that watch him with a look held within their eye, as if they _know_.

And Louis doesn’t want them to know.

His heart starts to hammer in his chest, his vision not quite blurry, but out of focus as he wills his feet to carry him as quickly as possible to the front doors, regardless of there only being three items inside of his basket.

Harry’s going to be pissed.

His mind quickly sprints away from that thought however when he sees a clump of men dressed in reflective gear near the deli counter, looking over the food on offer as if they want to absolutely _devour_ it all.

Louis doesn’t like that look.

His heart plummets and his stomach swoops uneasily in his body, pulling him off balance as he speed walks away, trying to get away from them before they notice him.

He can’t go through that again.

He tries to dodge around the people that are shopping down the aisles around him, but he can’t.  His limbs flailing as he shoots to the exit, causing more eyes to fall on him and the panic that’s rushing through his veins to increase tenfold.

His feet go _slap_ , _slap_ , _slap_ against the floor of the shop, his feet straining as his worn shoes pull his feet uncomfortably as he runs, and he knows that he had better stop his frantic dash if he wants people’s attention to drop from him, but he can’t.

The adrenaline’s rushing through his veins the closer he gets to the sliding doors, to the cold air outside, away from the fake air-conditioned stuff inside that’s pumping itself through his lungs currently.

He doesn’t even notice Niall’s worried eyes or hear his yells of concern as he flies past said blonde’s till point, Louis dropping his basket somewhere between the end of Niall’s conveyor and the shop doors as he runs, his legs not even aching; the football that he did years ago did him wonders.

Gave him the strongest legs in his year, meant he won all of the matches, and scored more or less every winning goal they needed throughout his years at school. 

He grins just at the thought, his hair flying out behind him as he just goes, watching people and buildings pass by in a blur until he reaches the foot of his apartment building.

Also gave him a decent ass, but that thought makes his throat close up and he instantly pushes the thought from his mind, feeling it poisoning him from the inside out.

His phone buzzes against his leg muscles as he runs but he can’t be arsed to read it, to stop now when he’s so close to home, to safety.

He takes the stairs two at a time, liking the beginnings of the ache that courses through his calves and thighs, the tingling he knows he’s going to experience when he stops.  The buzzing goes again.

He’s through his door in mere seconds and in his bathroom in even less, head down the bowl of the toilet as he just waits.  Waits for his body to give him the release that he needs; either in the form of sickness or tears.

He needs something.

When his stomach doesn’t convulse or twist in protest, just lays stagnant inside of his body, Louis leans back, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket but he can’t even see what’s right in front of his eyes, due to the tears that are seeping from them, so he doesn’t even try to read it, just sits against the shower door, hiccupping back his tears when he starts to get a headache.

His phone buzzes again and it tickles against his skin, making him laugh manically for no reason other than the feel of it against his skin before pulling it out; being able to read the words on the screen as he thumbs away his tears.

‘Lou, are you okay?’ – 11:22 am

‘Lou, answer me, yeah?’ – 11:25 am

‘Louis please, text me back, mate?’ – 11:27 am

‘I’ve texted Harry, don’t be mad.  I didn’t know what else to do.’ 11: 34

You should have called me, Louis thinks laying himself out on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, the chill seeping through his thin clothing, like it had back in the supermarket car park when he’s been with Niall.

‘I’m okay, don’t worry about it.’

He thumbs back to Niall, hoping to cool his constant messages so that he doesn’t lose his job – Louis is almost certain he’s typing out his texts whilst he’s serving his customers and scolds himself for laying Niall’s job on the line because he can’t keep his emotions in check.

Louis drops his phone by his head, closing his eyes as he looks up towards the ceiling, noting the cracks that are starting to jump from one end of the ceiling to the other as he lays just waiting for the constant buzz of Harry’s no doubt soon to come stream of desperate messages and worried calls and Louis kind of wants that, for the first time in his life. 

He _wants_ Harry to be worried, so that he can see that people do care; not just Niall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you want to<3


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'funny how some stories have 15 chapters and 500 comments and yours has 58 chapters and less than a quarter comments, seriously, this fix must not be good because you should have at least 1,000 comments due to the number of chapters. guess readers just arent excited enough'
> 
> My readers are the ones that make me want to write to be able to try and make them happy.  
> You make me want to write to prove you wrong.

‘I’m okay,’ Niall frowns down at the words, dark against the brilliant white of his phone screen, that he knows aren’t true but continues reading on anyway, despite his boss standing mere feet away over by the magazine counter with Jade and Greg.  ‘Don’t worry about it.’

Niall doesn’t register when he his hands ball into fists, his nails digging into his palm and leaving crescent shaped grooves in his flesh but he when he does, he hisses in pain, extracting them from his skin before stretching out his fingers.

‘Don’t lie to me, Lou.  Let me in.’

His boss creeps closer to him then, leaving Jade and Greg to flirt unceremoniously as his long, shiny shoes clip-clap across the supermarket floor, checking in on all of the cashiers one by one before falling on Niall’s station.

He gives Niall a look which the blonde can’t decipher; can’t decide if his boss knows his phone is posed precariously on his lap or if he’s raising his eyebrow in a silent ‘are you okay?’.

Niall decides on the latter, not wanting to give up his tactics to the man who could potentially fire him, and instead smiles at the wrinkled man as he scoots his current customer’s items down into the loading area of his station, asking if they want any help with their packing.

His boss grunts in appreciation as Niall follows the pre-written cashier drawl he was handed, back on his first day, spewing out the same thing each and every time a new face comes to be served, before his boss is walking off with a furrow in his brow as he spies a wet floor sign poised over near the bakery section and no one there to clean it.

Niall breaths out a massive capacity of air he didn’t a.) know he was holding cooped up in his lungs and b.) had the lung capacity to hold in the first place, making his cheeks puff out around the air that exits his body.

He hears a laugh from Ed’s till but forgets to send a telepathic finger to his ginger friend when his phone vibrates in his lap.

‘Not lying.  Well, I am, technically - on my bathroom floor.’

 Niall snorts a laugh as he reads the text off of his phone when he reaches down to grab a new pile of carrier bags from under his work station; he’s met with the curious eyes of a brown haired woman when he rises back up into his seat, causing his cheeks to flush.

“Would you like some help with your packing?”  He draws his full attention to the woman in a form of apology for not acknowledging her when she first reached his station, and also so that she’ll stop giving him a questioning look.

She shakes her head with a grin when Niall’s cheeks continue to darken and his eyes slowly fall from hers, embarrassed to have been caught, but she just waves him off with a whispered, “Go for it,” as she packs her groceries in her carrier bag, cocking her head towards where his phone has become un-wedged from under his thigh.

He watches her for any sign that she’s joking but she just nods as if she understands and repeats her words, ducking her eyes as she continues to pack. 

Niall likes this woman.  He scans a token out of the coupon booklet for her, waiting for his till point to ding with the reduction as the system processes it and she grins in thank you when she watches her total drop on his screen.

‘What are you doing on your bathroom floor?  You were in here not even like 10 minutes ago.’

He smiles when he notices that the woman is pottering about since Niall forgot to tell her total, “Sorry,” He blushes reading the total off of his screen.  “£21.92, please?”

She digs her hand into her purse, counting out her change into Niall’s palm and placing a £20 note on top of it with a smile as she lifts her bags into her hands.  “Don’t worry about the receipt.”

He watches her go, smiling after her even before he feels vibrations against his thigh from where he re-positioned his phone on his swivel chair.

‘I’m a good runner, I’ll have you know.’

‘Bloody must be, it takes me like fifteen minutes to walk here, and I live more or less down the road!’

‘You’re unfit, Ni!  Should go out running with Liam – Harry goes on about it all the time.’

Niall frowns at his phone, scrunching up his eyebrow – exercise?  Actually, if he was to properly and accurately phrase that it’d be more like, _voluntary_ exercise?

‘Don’t like running, s’boring.’

‘Don’t go complaining to me when you get fat then ;)’

Niall likes that emoticon, makes his heart hammer in his chest, if he’s being honest, the fact that Louis is being open with him, laughing along.  Niall can do laughing, can’t handle serious.

‘Not fat, go a fast metabolism ;)’

‘Lucky sod.’

Niall barks out a laugh that gets Ed’s attention from across the gangway between their tills and his cheeks flush as his ginger friend wiggles his eyebrows knowingly at him, tapping at his wrist with a smile.

Niall’s eyes flicker over to the clock hung up high on the far wall of the supermarket, watching the hands spin around the clock face until his attention is caught by yet another customer.

“Would you like some help with your packing, today?” 

This is what his life has come to, he thinks, plastering on a smile until the hand reaches the twelve, dragging itself around the enamel clock face and hiking up to the top before Ed’s out of his seat and Niall’s doing the same, the pair grabbing their stuff from the staff room instantly and escaping out of the shop’s front door.

“That was hell,” Ed groans, slumping as they walk down the pavement towards Liam’s coffee shop, despite there being no spoken agreement between them on where they were going.

“I know mate,” Niall thumbs at his phone, flicking it on as he thumbs out a smile to Louis, not expecting a reply but wanting Louis to know he’s still there anyway.  “But not long to go until we’ll be partying our asses off on New Years, though.”

Niall still needs to call his mum to ask if he’s still welcome for Christmas before he books the tickets to get there.  He scrawls it in his mind, hoping to remember.

“Three weeks until Christmas, mate.  Look to the joys that come first, yeah?” Ed chuckles, reaching out to palm at Niall’s hair and Niall can’t be bothered to shoo him away when he feels a vibration buzz through his trouser pocket against his thigh.

‘:)’

Niall likes smiles.

He pushes his own smile off of his face when Ed looks at him like he has four heads, knocking shoulders with his friend to get him to go through the door of the coffee shop, where Liam’s waiting for them with a wide smile and bright eyes, coffee pot already poised and ready in his hand.

Niall loves Liam, he really does.

He thinks he might likes smiles more though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	61. Chapter 61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've bypassed 4,000 hits - little bit excited! Love you guys!<3

Niall’s phone lies dormant in his pocket as he slurps back his coffee, chuckling with Ed and Liam as they talk about the song that Ed wants Liam to check over at some point; his attention away from Louis.

Whilst Harry’s is singularly on his blue-eyed friend’s door, his knuckles white as he hammers at the door, raising his voice as he tries to get his friend’s attention.  “Lou, let me in!”

Louis is holding the door open for him not much later, a smile on his face when he eyes his best friend before he waves him in and said curly-haired boy starts walking into his living room.  “Hey, Haz.”

Harry frowns at his friend, at the smile on his lips and the slight glimmer in his eyes.  “Are you okay?”

Harry can still feel the desperation pulsing through his veins from when he received the message from Niall, ‘something’s wrong with Lou, he just ran out of the shop.  Might wanna see him, he’s not responding to me.’

“Yeah, I’m good, are you?” Harry notes Louis’ lack of shoes on his feet as he stands pigeon-toed in his own home before he’s wandering into the kitchen, calling out if Harry wants a cup of tea, as if everything is completely normal and there’s nothing is wrong with the whole situation.

When he’s handed a cup of steaming liquid in a mug with a bulldog on it, Harry merely sips at it, watching his friend with wary eyes for any signs of anything out of the ordinary; not actually knowing what he should and shouldn’t be looking out for, but trying in vain anyway.

“I thought you were at work?” Louis asks, dropping his lips back around the rim of his mug once the final word has slipped past them, keeping his eyes on Harry’s as he continues to glug back his drink.

“Yeah, but I got a bit of a break for half an hour though, so I thought that I’d come and see you.” Louis frowns around his cup, watching Harry as he gulps down another mouthful of scolding liquid.

“Niall told me,” Realisation finally hits Harry but Louis doesn’t look angry, just a little bit surprised that Harry didn’t just go in for the kill instead of skipping around it.  “I know why you’re here and I know what you’re going to ask me, but I’m fine, honestly.”

“If you were fine, Lou, you wouldn’t have bolted from a supermarket, like you did,” Harry sighs, hating how he’s speaking to his friend, but seeing no other way of going about it; what he wants to say has to be said.

“I didn’t bolt,” Louis mumbles, dropping his eyes into his cup, condensation forming on his forehead from the steam that billows from the tea.

“Oh yeah?” Louis doesn’t respond, doesn’t raise his head, just keeps his eyes on the liquid inside of his mug, as though fearing the words that Harry’s about to say.  “According to Niall you did.”

Louis’ shoulders sag, unhappy at himself for making Niall see that.  There’s one thing Harry seeing it, but he’s only known Niall for about a fortnight and he doesn’t want to scare him off; Harry’s more or less stuck by his side for the rest of his life - Niall may not be quite as permanent a fixture if he sees anymore of this side of Louis.

“I didn’t bolt; I just needed to get out of there.” Louis mumbles, eyes sad as he thinks of the fact he’s left his phone in the middle of his bathroom floor; Niall’s so far away.

“Otherwise known as bolting,” Harry chuckles, reaching across to squeeze at Louis’ arm.  “It’s okay, you know, he’s not like freaked out or anything.  Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”  Louis isn’t quite sure when Harry gained the ability to read minds, but he doesn’t like it very much.

“I know,” Louis grins, eyes wandering from his cup to stare longingly at his bathroom door, feeling the pull at his heart that his phone has to him.  “I’ve been texting him.”

Harry’s eyebrows knit together in the middle of his forehead and Louis scolds his friend by smoothing out the wrinkles the action causes.  “You have?”

Louis nods, ducking his head, as he’s not quite certain what kind of reaction he was hoping for, but when Harry doesn’t give him one and instead just watches him with a twinkle in his eyes, Louis begins to worry.

“Is that okay?” Louis plays with the hem of his shirt, pushing his finger through a small hole in the material and making it bigger, stretching the fabric to enclose around his digit. 

Rather like the hole he’s stretching in his life to let Niall in, if Louis was to be all metaphorical about it, but he’s not.

“Course it’s okay, Lou,” Harry grins, hiding his beaming smile behind his mug as he sips at it, trying to pull the dimples out of his cheeks.  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Louis shrugs, not really having an answer and instead fiddling with his shirt as he continues to drink his tea, sighing between each mouthful contentedly. 

They fall into an easy silence before Harry’s phone is buzzing in his pocket, the alarm going off on his phone that he set so that he’d be able to get back to work in time, after talking to Louis.

“You off back to work now then?” Louis lowers his mug from his lip, sliding it onto the coffee table nearby, no doubt to be left there for the next week or so, until Harry decides to clean up his friend’s flat again; he grins despite himself at his smaller friend.

“Yeah, I’ll bring you something back for tea, yeah?  Ni said you didn’t buy anything at the shop.” Louis ducks his eyes, whilst Harry just laughs affectionately.  “Bye, Lou.”

Louis waves him off; standing in the doorway long after Harry’s gone, just watching the dust particles in the air dance around in the not-quite sun of the afternoon before he slides himself back into the dingy darkness of his apartment.

His phone is still where he left it when he slips back into his bathroom, no new messages buzzing up on the screen and forcing the device to shake frantically against the cool tile, but Louis lays down beside it anyway, his head by the device and his eyes closed as he lets the cool sink into his skin and his mind wander away from him, thinking about the life he could have lived, the life he still _wants_ to live.

‘You wanna come round tonight to watch a film?’

He doesn’t get a reply instantly, but he didn’t expect one; Niall has to work.

That thought alone is enough to drag him up off of the bathroom floor and into the living room, eyes searching over the newspaper the paper boy dropped through his letterbox just days before, looking through it for job opportunities. 

He needs to get his life back on track.

‘Sure, text me your address and a time and I shall be round.  I’ll bring food – employee discount ;)’

Louis wants an employee discount again; it just increases his determination as he reads through the pages, eyes straining as he tries to read in the dark, before he’s huffing at himself and throwing the curtains across his living room window wide, letting the weak sun trickle into his apartment to swipe away the darkness that’s been holed up in there for the past three weeks.

Just another step on his walk back to being himself, he thinks as he sinks back into the sofa, nibbling on his nails, eyes racking over the newspaper, hunting down a new beginning.

‘Hey Haz, won’t be needing any food, keep it for you and Zee :) Love you, man x’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	62. Mustering up the courage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any ideas for chapter names, for any of the chapters in this story, then please let me know! Leave your chapter name idea on the particular chapter it applies to and I'll choose the one I like the best - you will be credited if your chapter name is chosen:)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to Sela_1D! Don't doubt yourself, you're ideas are brilliant!:)

Niall beams down at his phone before he’s sticking his name badge back through his shirt and preparing himself for the rest of his shift he has to complete before he can see Louis, having just left the comfort of the coffee shop not more than five minutes ago, caffeine still bubbling itself through his veins.

Ed watches him with a suspicious look in his eye the whole way through their shift, Niall catching Ed’s eyes on him on more than one occasion until the dribble of customers coming through the door equates to nothing and the pair of them can head home.

“Something’s funny about you,” Ed accuses as they enter the staffroom, pulling their coats back on, preparing their bodies for the no doubt icy whip the wind will swat against their skin when they exit the toasty air of the supermarket.

“Funny how?” Niall asks, mind wandering to what he should grab off of the shelves for him and Lou - they didn’t really discuss it, now he comes to think of it; he scolds himself internally for his lack of common sense on the matter.

Louis had pasta on the shopping list that Harry wrote for him, so I can’t go far wrong with pasta, Niall thinks, barely registering the fact that Ed’s mouth is moving to create words in front of his face.

“I’m sorry, what?” Niall most definitely sees the blatant roll of Ed’s eyes however, before the ginger sets off out of the staffroom door, flicking his attention over his shoulder at Niall.

“As in happy funny.  You’re never happy to go to work, and you’ve been literally ecstatic all day,” Ed’s hands fly about around him in exaggerative movements.  “Something must be up.  Have you got a new girlfriend?” Niall frowns at the word, pushing at Ed’s shoulder with a bored _no_. 

“A new pet that you’re keeping from me because you know I’ll bombard you asking for cute pictures?” Niall squints his eyes at his friend, shaking his head – where does he get this stuff from?  “The rod out of your arse, then?”

“No, you twit,” Niall deadpans, pushing at his friend until he realises he’s almost out the front door of the shop and he still needs to get some food for him and Louis. 

He starts to part from Ed, distancing them as he waves at his friend, watching the confused look slide off of his friend’s face when he says, “I need to get some food, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ed snickers, eyes gleaming with a childish joy.  “Oh right!  You’ve got one of the shelf stackers to play with, have you?” He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, before darting from the shop when Niall chases him, telling him to shut up as Ed chuckles dance out into the darkness as he wanders on his way home.

Once Niall’s alone, he works his way around the store, looking for the pasta section and grabbing noodles before reaching for a jar of pasta sauce and a small packet of cheese from the next set of shelves, carrying them towards the tills whilst also piling a bag of popcorn into his hands, unloading them all on the conveyor belt of the nearest checkout.

He smiles at the cashier, knowing she wants to get off home but has to wait until Niall’s finished and so he tries to help her get home faster by packing his own bag, knowing how frustrating it is from his own personal experience.

That is before his eyes land on a buy-one-get-one-free offer on bottles of Coca Cola, dropping two bottles onto the conveyor with an apologetic look before he’s all paid up and wandering out into the night, the plastic of the carrier bags withering in the gentle wind that drifts through the inky blackness of the streets.

He grasps his phone tight in the hand that’s unoccupied by his shopping, the artificial light of the screen bright in the dark of the night as he walks the streets he knows he would recognise in the light, but are mysterious and never ending as he walks them in the dark, his eyes failing to recognise quite where he is anymore.

‘You live near a hairdresser’s shop, yeah?’  He double checks the neon sign that’s hung over the door, watching it move; the scissors that it’s displaying opening and closing as if it’s cutting at hair – it must be a hairdressers, either that or some morbid human butchering facility.

‘Yeah :)’

Niall mentally high fives himself for finding the right place, yet chuckles at the sign for the thoughts it put into his head, before he slips himself through the large wooden door of the building that Louis sent the address for, climbing the four flights of stairs he needs to until he’s outside Louis’ door.

He stands looking at the grain of the wood Louis’ door is carved out of, willing himself to knock for a short while, timing his inability to knock using the breaths that he exhales, but still not being able to muster it up after a series of twelve exhales before Louis is swinging the door open, as if he sensed Niall’s presence outside.

“Hey, Ni, come in.” Niall smiles, obliging as he slips off his shoes by the doorway, noting Louis’ lack of footwear.  Niall’s heart may or not hammer in his chest when his eyes fall upon Louis’ wide smile, but that’s from only him to know – well, him and the cracks it’s causing on his rib cage, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the ending - it was pretty diabolical!
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like to:)


	63. Chapter 63

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present domestic Nouis to you, my friends...

“I brought pasta,” Niall mumbles, his eyes wandering around the flat, failing to find any family photographs around the place, frowning; he wanted to be able to nose around a bit.

“Oh good,” Louis smiles, wandering into what must be the kitchen, popping his head out of the doorway to shake a mug in Niall’s direction.  “Want anything to drink?  Tea, coffee, water?”

Niall chuckles, lifting his plastic shopping bag up in the air, his arm starting to strain under the weight of it.  “I brought Coca Cola – it was on offer.”  Louis laughs at him, diving back inside the kitchen to grab a pair of glasses, carrying them out with a broad smile.

“Right little boy scout, aren’t you?” Niall chuckles, reaching into the bag and uncapping one of the bottles, filling each of the glasses that Louis has poised in his hands, careful not to spill any.

“Not normally, no.” Niall chuckles, sliding his bag onto a clear flat surface within Louis’ messy flat; it’s a nice kind of messy, a comforting mess that looks lived in and much like the home Niall had expected Louis to live in.

They both sip at their drinks, the caffeine dancing in their veins and the sharpness of the bubbles nibbling at the enamel of their teeth before Louis heads off towards a small bookcase, filled with DVD’s and games, beckoning Niall over.  “Choose something to watch and I’ll go put the pasta on.”

“I’ll help you, if you want?” Louis shakes his head, a grin on his lips as he slides back into the kitchen, taking Niall’s carrier bag of food with him and leaving said blonde haired boy alone trying to sift through the small mountain of DVD’s that Louis owns.

He slides some of them out of their slots in the bookcase, reading the backs of the cases to try to find out more information on what they all are before he’s hearing a hissing sound a squeak that sounds as if it had come from the kitchen.

“Lou?  You okay?” Niall shouts, rising onto his knees, ready to go and check on the smaller boy in the kitchen and leave the DVD’s behind.

“I’m okay,” Niall shakes his head – he’s heard that far too many times; it didn’t stick the first time, he doubts it will now.

Niall rises to his feet, keeping his drink in his hand, having failed to find a clear surface to position it on within the living room as he walks towards the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe.  “You want some help, Lou?”

Louis squeaks again from his position on the floor as he mops up at water that has formed a puddle there with a tea towel, his eyes wide as he notices Niall’s presence within the kitchen area. “No, it’s fine.  Got it all under control now.”

Niall rolls his eyes, walking across the breath of the kitchen to grab at the jar of pasta sauce, twisting it open and pouring it into a pan before placing it on the stove near Louis’ boiled over pasta, thumbing open drawers on the lookout for a wooden spoon.

“Here,” Louis whispers, sliding the implement he was searching for into his hand as he turns back to stirring his pasta, seemingly leaving Niall to cook his half of the food without question.

They fall into an easy silence, occasionally bumping elbows as they stir their respective half of the meal, grinning at each other when they do knock their limbs together. 

“Your pasta ready yet?  The sauce is almost done,” Niall says, watching the way Louis is stirring the pasta in the shapes of all the letters of the alphabet, appearing to have forgotten what he was doing when he jumps at the sound of Niall’s voice, cheeks tinted in a blush.

“Yeah,” Louis turns the heat down on his side of the stove, carrying the pasta away from Niall as he drains it in the small sink across the room, steam swirling up around him as he does so.  “I’ll just plate this up.”

Niall grins when Louis has to stand on his tiptoes to reach the plates in the top cupboard, pulling them down to rest by the sink, tipping the pasta out in a swirl on each of the plates, leaving it for Niall to decorate with the sauce as he digs around in the drawers for cutlery and condiments.

“Cheese?” Louis asks, holding up Niall’s newly purchased block of cheese and a cheese grater, smiling when Niall nods, shaving the cheese over the top of their plates with a messy flourish that makes Niall laugh hard at his friend, and receive an elbow to the side in protest from said friend.

“Bon appétit!” Louis chuckles, swinging his arms out dramatically towards the food, smiling wide at Niall.

“Looks delicious, Lou,” Niall grins, reaching out his hand to steal a clump of cheese off of Louis’ plate, smirking at the brunette boy as he does so.

“That it does, Nialler,” Louis smiles, copying Niall’s actions and stealing cheese off of the blonde’s plate before he’s skipping away, his cutlery grasped clumsily between his fingers and his plate in his hands as he bounds into the living room.

Niall follows his action, dusting his food with a light douse of salt before he sets off after Louis, grinning when he sees that Louis has completely forgotten about the films that are strewed across the floor and is thumbing at the TV guide instead, switching on the football and grinning at the score.

Niall does to, it looks good, much better than that particular team had the last time he had watched them with Liam, all those weeks ago.

Louis cheers next to him when the ball is pelted back into the goal again, having only been removed from it mere moments prior and Niall grins, digging into his food, feeling content for the first time in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was okay?
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like to:)


	64. Monsters of the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter names, maybe?
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to Sela_1D :) Love you<3

Alex isn’t at work on Monday, resulting in Liam being all alone behind the counter on one of the toughest shifts as he tries to serve the people that seem to quite literally pour in through the door, never ceasing to end, until he’s shutting the lights off in the kitchen and cafe area and locking up behind himself.

“Missed you,” A voice breathes from behind him, hot breath blasting down the back of his neck and causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end and his shoulders to hunch defensively, before he places the voice and grins.

“Missed you too, Alex, now let me lock up, yeah?” Alex huffs out a laugh against Liam’s neck, his lips chapped but warm against Liam’s skin as he noses at the flesh, his hands coming to perch on Liam’s waist as Liam twists the key in the lock, hearing the definite click of the lock catching before he pulls it back out.

“Where were you today?  It was boring without you,” Liam mumbles, sliding the coffee shop key in his back pocket, tugging the sleeves of his jacket down over his hands to protect them from the nip of the wind.

Alex chuckles, slow and gravely into the air, forcing clouds of smoke to billow from his mouth.  “Booked the day off, forgot to tell you,” Alex pouts at himself but continues to watch Liam under the dim light the coffee shop sign above them gives off.

Liam smiles small, reaching out to squeeze at Alex’s fingers, tracing gently along the bones of his digits as he goes.  “It’s fine, you’re in tomorrow though, right?”

“Yeah, I think I’m in all day,” Alex frowns before righting his face, lifting the corners of his mouth into a small smile.  “Not that it’ll be bad now that I know you’re going to be there, though.”

Liam blushes at Alex’s words, ducking his head and hitting at Alex’s shoulder in protest with a gentle laugh to tell him to shut up.

They start walking along the road in more or less silence, Liam’s hand encased in Alex’s as the wander down the street, the streetlights above drawing shadows of them on the pavement as they try to avoid the cracks in the paving stones, laughing at each other’s childishness as they go.

“You know,” Alex starts, eyes looking from side to side as they cross the road, checking for traffic and tightening his grip on Liam’s hand when he hears the roar of an engine nearby.  “I fancied you since the day you got the job at the coffee shop,”

Alex laughs at himself, scrubbing a hand over his face as Liam watches the taller boy, looking for signs that this is a wind up and that he doesn’t mean what he’s saying to him.  “You did?”

Alex nods, grinning despite himself as he ducks his head, watching his feet as they scatter between paving stones.  “Yeah, that first day when you came in, there was just something about you,” He strokes a thumb across Liam’s knuckles, his skin soft as it brushes against Liam’s. 

Liam stays silent, not quite being able to process the fact that Alex is saying what he had questioned for months; confirming the fact that there may have been a chance that Liam could have been able to not just admire Alex from afar like he had been doing up until around a month ago, but potentially have had _this_ many, many moons ago.

“I’m not quite sure why I’m telling you this now, but I am,” Alex chuckles, breaking the silence that Liam subconsciously dropped them into when he tried to process Alex’s words.

“I’m glad you told me,” Liam whispers into the dead of night, still many streets away from his home but not caring because he has Alex by his side.  “It was the same for me too; there’s always been something about you, as well.”

Alex grins, eyes crinkling as he pulls Liam closer into his side, wrapping his arm around his shoulders as Liam sinks into his side.

“So really,” Alex chuckles, propping his head up on top of Liam’s as they continue on their way along the empty streets.  “We were being silly for months then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Liam signs, raising his head to kiss at Alex’s jaw, not quite registering his actions before he’s completed them and his lips have made contact with Alex’s skin. 

Liam pulls away instantly, as if he’s been burnt by Alex’s skin and he wrings his wrists with his hands, pinching at his skin, frustrated, ducking his eyes away from Alex’s whilst Alex eyes him with an endearing look bright in his eyes.

“You can do that, you know,” Alex whispers, pulling Liam back into his embrace and kissing at Liam’s jaw in return.  “It’s not illegal or anything, especially when I want to do it to.”

Liam chuckles into the night, eyes flashing with joy as he grins wide into the night, entwining his fingers with Alex’s again as they get closer and closer to Liam’s building, just a five minute walk or so away from it when a figure walks into their path.

“Alex?” Said boy looks up at the sound of his voice, his eyes clearing from confused to understanding when the man pushes himself off of the wall that he’s leant against, his face concealed by the hood of his clothing.  “Been texting you, man.  Where’ve you been?”

The man’s eyes fall on Liam and his lips twist up into something of a smirk when he notes the tangle of Liam’s and Alex’s fingers in the inky blackness, illuminated by the neon of the streetlight above.

“I was coming straight home,” Alex says, his fingers becoming looser in Liam’s as he starts to pull away, watching Liam with apologetic eyes.  “Erm, Liam, I’ve got to go, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Liam whispers, his hand becoming cold when the wind whips at his palm upon the absence of Alex’s hand in his.  “See you tomorrow.”

The man that Alex is walking towards eyes the pair of them before falling back into the shadows, both Liam and Alex watching him sink into them before turning their attention back on one other once again.

“I’ll explain tomorrow,” Alex promises as he gets back up in Liam’s space, pressing his lips to Liam’s jaw, smiling nervously as he watches said boy before he’s following the nameless figure into the darkness and Liam’s left alone in the night.

The five minute walk home doesn’t look quite as appealing now that there’s no one by his side to help fight off the monsters of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Check out my other work, if you'd like to:)


	65. Chapter 65

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're going to hate me...

“That’s probably the best I’ve ever seen them play!” Louis shouts as he carries their empty plates into the kitchen, dropping them in the sink to clean later, whilst Niall scours the DVD’s again.

“I know what you mean!” Niall calls, his voice muffled by the walls that separate the pair.  “Me and Liam watched one of their games a few weeks back and it was diabolical!”

Louis chuckles, popping the cap off of the bottle of Coca Cola Niall left on the side and refilling their glasses before returning to the living room, grinning when he finds Niall engrossed in the DVD in his hand.

“Find anything?” Niall startles but quickly rights himself, smiling at Louis when he hands him the drink he made.

“I don’t really know what you’d want to watch,” Louis shakes his head at the blonde, stealing the DVD case that he’s got in his right hand and dropping to the floor to slide it into the DVD player, noting that he’s putting Fast and Furious into his player with a smile.

“Doesn’t matter what I want to watch, I’ll watch anything, trust me.” He chuckles at himself when he notes the chick flicks and Disney films that are encircling Niall.

“Even chick flicks?” Niall asks, flipping _The Notebook_ between his hands as the titles start to roll on the screen, the music starting to build in volume the more the film runs.

“Yeah,” Louis chuckles at himself, rubbing at his face as he tries to hide the flush that’s leaking into his cheeks, thumbing at the remote in his hand to get the film to play.  “Only sometimes though,”

Niall chuckles, reaching across the scattering of DVD cases around him, eyes searching the cases before he smiles, pulling _She’s the Man_ into his palms, raising it towards Louis.  “This one’s cool, I like it, even though it’s a chick flick.”

“Yeah, it’s good,” Louis grins, dropping himself from his perch on the sofa down onto the floor next to Niall, film forgotten.  “Harry always gets me to watch _Love Actually_ ,” He pushes the DVD’s he doesn’t want away before his eyes land on the case, picking it up and thumbing alone the spine.  “It’s not bad, I just moan about watching it to make him feel as if he’s beaten me.”

Niall laughs, throwing his head back in the process and Louis can see the light from the film flash against Niall’s pale flesh, illuminating it in the darkened room as the sound of his laughter bounces around the room.

Louis joins in instantly, not being able to keep his chuckles in when Niall’s cheeks start to become splattered in red, the colour dancing high in his cheeks.

They settle down to little huffs of laughter as they continue to thumb through Louis’ DVD’s telling stories about the times that they watched them and which bits they liked and didn’t, grinning at each other when they admit that they both hate Twilight.

“Harry got me to watch that one as well,” Louis groans into his hands.  “Took me to the cinema and everything for each of the films.” Niall grins, watching him with a sympathetic smile tied to his lips.  “It was mad, people applauded at the end of it!” He shakes his head.  “I don’t understand why they do that, it’s not as if any of the actors are there to accept it or anything.”

Niall nods understandingly, still grinning at Louis as he pulls a case into his hands, bringing it to Louis’ face.  “You mean this film?”

Louis groans into his hands, pushing the case away from himself, not needing to see Robert Pattinson’s face again.  “Harry got me it for Christmas, the whole collection is probably here somewhere,” Niall’s eyebrow crinkles in confusion.  “He bought me the box set.”

Niall laughs again, the sound booming from his chest as he rolls his head backwards, coming to lean back against the foot of Louis’ sofa, and looking up at the brunette through wet eyes. 

“Well aren’t you lucky!” He laughs whilst Louis pushes at his shoulder, telling him to _shut up,_ but that just makes Niall laugh harder and louder, clutching at his stomach as he rolls along the floor.

He puffs out a final laugh when Louis kicks at his calf with his bare feet, grabbing at Louis’ foot as he tries to pull it away from Niall’s grasp.  “Niall!  Let go!”

“Never!” Niall chuckles, encircling Louis’ tiny ankle with his wide hand as he tickles at his foot, forcing laughs to spill from Louis’ lips as he does so.

“Niall!” Louis shouts, trying to kick away from Niall’s hold, breath catching in his throat.  “Let go!”  He squirms under the boy, trying to get away but he fails, Niall’s hold tightening on his ankle as he holds him down, trying to stop his flailing as he tickles harder.

Louis’ breath gets trapped in his throat as he tries to kick away, Niall’s hold like iron on his leg, keeping him down, holding him against his will, forcing his mind to plummet down into the darkness he’s been on the edge of for weeks.  “Let me go,” Louis whispers, not trusting his voice.

His voice is too quiet as Niall doesn’t hear him, but his grip does loosen on Louis’ ankle as he pulls himself up over Louis’ body, looking down on the smaller boy as he holds at his arms, fingers starting to tickle at Louis’ sides. 

“You want me to let go?” The playful laughter is evident in Niall’s voice, even his eyes, but Louis can’t detect it over the pulsing of his heartbeat in his ears, his heart sat on the back of his tongue as he tries to flail away again, to push his attacker away.

Niall must see the tears in Louis’ eyes before Louis feels them because he’s loosening his grip the moment moisture surfaces in Louis’ eyes.  “Lou?” Niall’s voice sounds as broken as Louis himself feels but he still tries to push away from the blonde boy fiercely, regardless.

Niall goes easily, falling off of Louis’ body the moment he’s pushed away, just watching the boy with a sad look in his eyes as Louis curls in on himself, the sound of engines roaring from the TV behind him as the film continues to roll, flashes of explosions flashing along the shaking arch of Louis’ back.

“Lou?” Louis curls deeper in on himself when he hears his name, not wanting to be himself anymore, desperate to be anyone but himself.  “What’s wrong?” Niall crawls across the floor, pushing away the DVD cases that are spread around Louis as he places his hand on Louis’ shoulder.

“Go away,” Louis whispers, voice hoarse as he shakes Niall’s hand off of his body violently, tucking deeper into himself as he skitters away from Niall, pushing himself up against the foot of his sofa.

“Lou?” Niall sounds desperate, but Louis can’t help that right now, not with how the hot buds of tears are streaking his cheeks.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Niall shakes his head, hearing the crack of Louis’ voice, the catch of his breath as he speaks into his arms, never raising his head to speak.

“You’re not okay,” Niall starts but he’s broken off by Louis’ roar of protest as he flings his arms around himself, fires burning in the pits of his eyes, staring into Niall’s soul as he uncoils himself.

“I _am_ okay,” Louis spits, coming out of himself as he gets up in Niall’s space, baring his teeth at the younger boy.  “I am okay and you _can’t_ tell me I’m not, Niall.” Louis’ voice is hard as he speaks, like venom in Niall’s ears as he keeps his eyes on the burning ambers in Louis’.  “You don’t know me.”

“I do know y-” Louis cuts him off by pushing at Niall’s shoulders, forcing him back, pushing him back against the sofa, Louis’ crouched tall over him.

“Don’t you _dare_ say you know me, Niall.” Louis’ hands clench by his sides as he holds his eyes firm against Niall’s.  “You don’t know me.”

Louis breaks down then, falling to his knees in front of Niall, his hands still in tight fists as he ducks his head, sucking in the breaths he needs to carry on.

“You don’t know me; you know what you can see of me.” Niall’s eyebrows furrow confused and Louis almost laughs at his confusion.  “You know the person I once was, not the one that I am.”  Louis shakes his head at himself – the boy he once was, it makes his heart break, admitting that both to himself and to Niall.

“You think you know me, but you don’t.  You don’t know anything about me.” Louis laughs as he scrubs at his face, scouring away the hot tears that stick to his clammy cheeks.  “You don’t even know my last name, Niall.”

“I don’t need to know that,” Niall whispers, reaching out for Louis’ hands, but Louis pulls away, as if burnt by Niall’s touch.

“Niall, go.” Louis signs, watching the blonde; the way he’s folding into the sofa, only his chest moving to allow his lungs to fill with air, keeping every other part of his body painfully still, as if Louis is a wild animal that will attack him if he moves, and he probably is, if he’s being honest.

“What?” Niall asks, eyes wide and confused as they search Louis’ eyes for the answers that he cannot bring his mind to formulate, his mouth to contort around.

“Go,” Louis whispers, pushing himself up off of the floor and heading for the kitchen, determined not to allow himself to watch Niall walk out of his life.

He hears Niall lift himself up off of the floor of the living room, but he doesn’t hear the door click shut, just hears the light patter of footsteps along his kitchen floor as Niall comes to stand next to him.

“I’m sorry, Lou,” He whispers, fingers ghosting over the skin of Louis’ forearm before walking out of the kitchen, his steps even and light as he walks out of Louis’ life, the door not even slamming against the doorframe when he walks out of it, instead it closes softly and as if Niall still has some concern for him as it clicks closed silently.

Louis falls to the floor, his eyes set on the living room where he can see a neat pile of DVD’s Niall must have tidied when Louis left for the kitchen; seeing the pile makes the tears fall faster down his cheeks, leaning against the kitchen cupboards and trying to catch his breath.

‘I’m sorry x’

He breaks down as he reads the words on his phone, having felt the vibrations against his thigh, feeling his chest cave in on itself as he throws his phone away from himself, determined not to reply; needing Niall out of his life, hating himself for letting him in when he told himself not to in the first place.

He cracks when his bum feels numb underneath him and he has to move anyway to fix it, crawling across the floor of his kitchen and cradling his phone in his hands, tears still trickling haphazardly down his face as he watches the door, waiting for Niall to walk back through it when he knows he won’t; probably never will again.

‘I’m sorry to.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	66. Regrets of the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've missed Lex a little bit, haven't you?
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to my one and only cheerleader, MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3

Liam slips into work the next day, well rested and happy, as he sees Alex behind the counter, wiping down the sides ready for their shift, already clad in his apron.

“Morning,” Liam greets, slipping behind the counter by Alex as he wraps his apron around his torso, tying up the strings into a neat bow. 

Alex grins across at Liam, echoing the greeting as he continues to work quickly, turning his attention on Liam the moment he deems the worktop to be clean.  “Sleep well, love?”

Liam blushes at the new pet name, liking how it rolls off of Alex’s tongue and into his ears.  “Yes thanks, did you?” Alex nods, throwing the cloth he had been wiping the sides down with into the sink before placing his hands on Liam’s waist.

“About last night,” Alex starts, eyes turning to the clock to check how long they have until they have to open up the coffee shop before he pulls Liam into one of the seats by the worktop, settling himself into one opposite before he starts to speak again.

“My brother wanted me, said he needed to sort some stuff out and needed me to help him.  I was on my way home to see him when I saw you locking up last night and came over.” Alex’s thumbs rub subconsciously against the back of Liam’s hand.  “If I hadn’t already promised to help him, I’d have walked you home, but I’d already agree to see him.”

Liam nods understandingly, grinning at the dark haired boy across the table top, sliding his hands out from Alex’s so that their fingers are entwined.  “It’s okay, Alex.  Did you get what you needed to help him with, done?”

Alex frowns, his forehead crinkling.  “Not really no, we didn’t really get anything done, thinking about it.  He didn’t really seem to be in the mood to sort it out when we got back.  It was a wasted night, to be honest.”

“There’s probably still time to get it sorted, I imagine.” Liam smiles, eyes sincere and happy as they shimmer under the coffee shop lights.  “What was it he wanted you to help him with anyway?”

“Oh, just some paper work,” Alex says, waving his left hand out around him as he speaks.  “He’ll get it sorted, I imagine, he didn’t really go into detail with what he wanted help with anyway,” Alex frowns again, eyes wandering across to the other end of the coffee shop.  “I think it’s time to open up.”

Liam turns in his seat to see more cars shooting down the street past the shop and a sudden current of people parading up and down it than there was when he arrived.  “Yeah, we better had.”

They work around each other, serving customers whilst the other makes the order, passing the roles between them subconsciously throughout the day as they’re worked off of their feet, people seemingly growing from one another and creating a greater mass of people than there was when Liam lifted his head to take an order.

Work slows down around tea time, however, when people have stopped traipsing in on their way home from work and are now instead settled in their respective homes making their own teas and coffees.

“That was mad.” Alex says, hands buried deep in soapy suds of water as he scrubs at dishes and mugs, the dishwasher over filled as it is as it gurgles in the back room, the amount of customers today overwhelming it’s capacity.

“Yeah,” Liam agrees, rubbing at stubborn marks on the coffee tables around the room as he tries to rid them of sticky marks and stains.  “Probably the busiest it’s been for weeks, really.” He sprays the table he’s currently cleaning with more cleaning spray, the coffee rings tacked hard to the grain of the wood.  “Maybe it’s the Christmas rush; people doing their Christmas shopping?”

“Maybe,” Alex says the clanking of dishes a backdrop to his words as he relocated mugs from the sink to the drying rack.  “Wouldn’t surprise me, what with only like three weeks left?  It is three isn’t it?”

Liam counts the days in his head, using his advent calendar that Niall bought him as a counting tool.  Yeah, it’s three weeks, if his teddy bear shaped chocolate this morning was correct.  “Yeah, it’s getting closer.”

“That it is, should probably try to book my holidays off before they’re all gone,” Alex says, voice far off as he speaks, no doubt thinking about his family Christmas, Liam thinks with an affectionate smile.

“I know what you mean; maybe the owner will shut the coffee shop for Christmas?  I don’t imagine there will be many people that will use it.”  Alex nods in agreement before the pair fall silent, doing their respective jobs up until the clock on the far wall is displaying 5 o’clock and the pair of them can leave.

Once out of the door, Liam’s teeth start to rattle in his skull, the chill of the air whipping at his skin as Alex takes Liam’s hand in his own, swinging them through the air as Alex promises to walk Liam home.

 “What’s your brother’s name?” Liam asks, breaking the silence that hangs around them, smoke fogging up in his face due to his words evaporating into the night air.  “I forgot to ask earlier.”

“Max,” Alex says, grinning in a private way that makes Liam’s heart swell in his chest, just watching the loving stretch of Alex’s lips on his face.  “Your sisters are Ruth and Nicola, right?”

Liam nods, cocking his head in confusion of how Alex knows that.  “I heard you and Niall talking about them a while ago,” Alex explains when he sees the confusion clouding the chocolate brown of Liam’s eyes.

“Oh, yeah, they are,” Liam smiles, thinking of his sisters and trying to remind himself to get in touch with them, he feels kind of bad that he had to be reminded in the first place that he hadn’t spoken to them in what feels like months.  “So does Max live around here then?”

“Yeah,” Alex nods, watching the few cars around them trundle down the street, bright headlights dancing in his eyes, leaving white spots in their wake.  “He lives on the other side of town, don’t see him very often though, last night was probably the first time I’ve actually seen him since his birthday back in September.”

Liam frowns, knowing exactly why there’s a hint of sadness in Alex’s tone; he hasn’t spoken to two of the people that have been by his side throughout the whole of his life for a while, either.

The final steps of their walk to Liam’s building are quiet, spent with each other’s hands twined together and the soles of their shoes slapping against the pavement as they slow in front of Liam’s building.

“I guess this is good night,” Alex grins, loosening his grip on Liam’s hand before kissing at his jaw, smiling when his lips come in contact with the scruff of Liam’s stubble.  His eyes are twinkling when he lifts his head back up to meet Liam’s eyes, squeezing at his fingers before he turns on his heels to walk into the night.  “Night, Li.”

Liam watches the boy drift off deeper into the night, feeling his jaw tingle against the chill of the air that races at it, cooling the skin where Alex’s lips had placed themselves.  “Night Alex!”

Alex turns on his heels, smiling over his shoulder at Liam before he waves, sinking deeper into the night until Liam’s calling after the dark haired male, calling him back.  “You can come up, if you’d like.”

Alex grins, stopping and turning back to walk towards Liam with a quiet smile twisting his lips.  “You sure?”  Liam nods, blushing when his heart hammers in his chest as he wraps his fingers with Alex’s before he pulls him up the flights of stairs to his flat, grinning.

They make it up the final set of stairs before Liam’s frowning at the slump of blonde hair sat at his door, knees brought up to their chest as they lean back against the wood of the door.  “Ni?” 

The blonde moves at the sound of a voice nearby, raising his head and Liam can see the remnant of tears on Niall’s cheeks, the leftover sadness clouding his eyes.  “What’s wrong?”

Liam drops Alex’s hand from between his own as he rushes over to Niall, eyes taking in the tender wobble of Niall’s lips as he pulls his knees closer to his chest, a hiccup of a breath slipping from between his lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Li,” Alex says, turning on his heels back down the stairs Liam had pulled him up mere seconds before but Liam can’t bring himself to think about that when his best friend is sinking into his arms, breath laboured and cheeks damp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	67. Chapter 67

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday for Matt (I'm not sure when it is, due to timezones and stuff but I hope you have a good one!), loved your comment:)

Niall refuses to talk when Liam gets him inside of his flat, just sits on the sofa, the hood of his jacket up over his hair, as he buries himself between the arm of the sofa and the cushions.

The damp from Niall’s cheeks seep into the sofa cushions, drying them quickly as he runs out of tears, just muffled sniffles of breaths falling on Liam’s ears as he leans over the boy, trying to pull him into his arms.

“Niall, it’s okay,” Liam assures as he rubs his hand up and down Niall’s back, drawing figure eights into his skin when he reaches the top and bottom of his spine.  “Just tell me what’s wrong, yeah?  Can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s up.”

Niall shakes his head, burying himself deeper into the cushions as he curls up into a deeper ball, kicking his shoes off to make himself fit in an even smaller patch of the sofa.

“Ni, c’mon, I’m your best friend, let me in, yeah?” Niall doesn’t respond, just hiccups in yet another breath that must not quite fill his lungs, as he goes back for another instantly.  “Niall, please?”

Liam sighs out a breath, determined to leave Niall to sort through his thoughts as begins pushing himself up off of the sofa to head into the kitchen, flicking on the kettle and preparing them drinks with a sad smile when he hears another hitch in Niall’s breath from the living room.

‘Niall okay? -A x’

‘Don’t know, won’t talk to me :(’

Liam slips his phone back into his pocket just as the kettle boils and he hears Niall hoist himself up off of the sofa, his footsteps light and cautious as he shuffles into the kitchen.  “Okay?” Liam asks, eyes dancing up and over all of the planes of Niall’s face.

Niall shakes his head as he leans against the countertop, but he manages to put a sad smile on his lips as he rubs at his eyes.  “I think me and Lou fell out.”

“Lou?” Liam asks with a confused tone to his voice as he passes Niall a mug of hot tea, hoping it will help him open up and get what’s worrying him off of his chest.

“Louis, Harry’s friend,” Niall supplies with a sad shine in his eyes, as if saying the name hurts as he much as knowing what happened between them does.  “He went out with us a few weeks back.”

Liam nods, understanding, as he places a face to the name; brunette hair and blue eyes clouded by black bags and a tired slump to his shoulders, hands tucked up in his jacket as he more or less hid in either Harry or Niall’s shadow throughout the night.  Yeah, Liam knows who Louis is.

“I didn’t even know you were talking to him,” Liam says, trying to not to sound disappointed in himself for not knowing about Niall’s new friend, or jealous at the fact that there is another.  “What happened?”

Niall’s hand stops midair, the mug that was held between his fingers and heading towards his lips slowing to a permanent stop, somewhere between Niall’s throat and his mouth as he avoids Liam’s eyes, shaking his head, hair falling into his eyes.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Liam says, trying to reassure his friend and make him fall back into himself, instead of the shell he’s currently hidden himself within.  “I was just asking in case you wanted to tell someone, to get it off of your chest and stuff.”

Niall smiles small, a private smile on his lips as he tips his mug up to his mouth, eyes shining happily as he watches Liam as he swallows a mouthful of tea. 

“I know, Li.” Niall assures as he reaches across the width of the kitchen to bump fists with the brown eyed boy.  “I don’t really know what happened though,” Niall frowns.  “That’s what makes it worse.”

Liam’s eyebrows crinkle in confusion.  “You don’t know why you fell out?” Niall nods, head bobbing only slightly as he hoists himself up onto the counter opposite Liam, crossing his legs at the ankles.  “Did he say why you fell out?”

“No, not really,” Niall says, voice quiet.  “He just went on about how I didn’t know him and how I never would.”  Niall wraps his hand over his bicep where Louis had pushed him, feeling the start of a bruise formulating under his skin, but enjoying the fact it’s there, that it will stick around longer than Louis did.

“Why would he do that?  I don’t understand.” Niall shrugs his shoulders, obviously just as clueless as Liam is on the subject.  “What happened before that?  Y’know, what could have made him do that?”

“He invited me round and we were looking for a DVD to watch and I kind of started tickling him, I can’t remember why now, but I did and then he just went, like, mental.” Niall ducks his head as he thinks of the fire that licked deadly inside of Louis’ eyes as he pushed Niall away.

“You tickled him and he went mental?” Liam asks, disbelieving as Niall nods, ducking his eyes from Liam.  “Well that’s strange.” Liam chuckles but Niall kicks him in the calf with a frown to tell him to shut up.  Liam obliges.

“I don’t know what I did, but he more or less told me to get out of his life,” Niall scratches at his wrists before picking at his nails, tea forgotten as he worries his lower lip between his teeth.

Liam’s heart hurts at the sadness contorted in Niall’s voice, how his voice becomes lower and quieter than his normal loud Irish boom of a voice.  “He’s not worth it, Nialler,” Liam reassures, a bubble of hatred for Louis formulating within himself as he sees the effect that said boy has had on his blonde friend.

Niall doesn’t agree nor does he disagree with Liam’s statement, merely watches the swinging of his sock clad feet against Liam’s cupboard, toes occasionally clawing, like a monkey’s would, around the door knobs screwed tightly to the wooden doors.

Liam watches his friend with affection in his eyes before he pulls Niall off of the worktop and into the living room once again, flicking on the TV and ordering Niall to find something to watch whilst he hunts the cupboards for food.

When Liam returns, it’s to see Niall with a ghost of a smile on his lips as he watches his phone before pocketing it.  “Who’s got you smiling, Nialler?” Liam teases, dropping down next to his blonde haired friend.  “I might have to buy them flowers or something.”

Niall chuckles lightly as he turns the volume up on the TV, sinking into the sofa cushions as he leans into Liam’s side to grab a handful of pop corn out of the bowl he that Liam made.  “Louis,”

Liam tenses up at the name, chews at his lower lip as he just watches the TV, feeling numb and confused for as to why Niall has a smile on his lips because of Louis. 

“He texted me saying sorry,” Niall goes on and the hard set of Liam’s mouth doesn’t waver as he keeps his eyes on the TV whilst Niall texts back.

“Are you sure you should just forgive him?” Niall looks up at his friend with a confused crinkle to his forehead as he silently presses Liam to continue with what he has to say. 

“I found you crying on my doorstep, Niall,” Liam starts, carding his fingers through Niall’s hair as he hopes his explanation comes out as caring, and not as if he’s trying to upset Niall.  “Are you sure he deserves your forgiveness?  You were a mess like twenty minutes ago because of him.”

Niall watches his friend, but shakes his head with a smile on his lips, no hatred in his eyes, just pure affection and Liam physically melts when he realises that Niall isn’t mad at him.  If it was the other way round, Liam thinks, he’s have gone sick at Niall for what he just said.

“Nah, I guess I might have just got a bit too up in his face, y’know?” Liam nods for lack of a better way to show his understanding, still a little bit speechless from Niall’s reaction.  “Plus he seems to have a lot going on right now, so I guess it’s not really his fault.  Forgive and forget, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Liam grins, turning back to the TV when Niall does the same thing, half heartedly watching the programme that ignites itself on the pixels as he thumbs his phone out of his pocket, typing quickly and grinning before pushing it in Niall’s face.  “Either that or he may have Pteronophobia.”

Niall frowns at the word before his eyes fall on the definition and he laughs small, pushing at Liam’s arm playfully.  “You’re so weird!” He chuckles before he falls into Liam’s side, his arms coming to wrap around Liam’s waist.  “But I love you for it; thanks Li.”

“Love you too,” Liam grins, tapping a nameless rhythm against Niall’s hip bone as they watch the programme Niall chose on the TV, laughing at the sad attempts by the characters to be funny; their attempts are funnier than their gags, Liam thinks. 

They watch it regardless, their eyelids becoming heavier as the hands on the clock dance around, their breaths evening out as sleep takes them hostage, one by one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all comments are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Also, I'm still looking for chapter titles, guys:)


	68. Forgive and Forget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just reached 0.45% of a million hits - pretty impressed.
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to Sela_1D <3

“I’ll get the phone!” Zayn calls as he walks through the door of Harry’s apartment, the ringing shrill in his ear as he walks through the threshold, having stayed at work later than expected and turning up long after Harry had left the bakery, heading for home.

Harry makes an affirmative noise from the kitchen and the scent of chicken wafts instantly up Zayn’s nostrils as he shuts the door, plucking the phone from it’s cradle and holding it to his ear, smiling when he hears the effortless drag of Harry’s voice over the words of the song he’s got playing in the kitchen.

“Hello?” The line crackles a bit before Zayn can make out a voice, the reception bad, forcing him to wander across the room to the window on the far side of the apartment, knowing it’s more or less the only place you can get signal within Harry’s flat when on the home phone.

“Hello?” He tries again, wandering around the window to try and find a spot where he can hear anything but the crackle of what sounds like someone’s breathing down the phone line.

“Zayn?” The voice is contorted by the phone’s speaker, but Zayn places it instantly, grinning down the phone as he unties his work shoes, sighing happily when they’re removed from his feet and he feet are allowed to sink into the soft fibres of Harry’s living room carpet.

“Yeah, it’s me, you wanna talk to Harry?” Zayn pulls the curtains tight over Harry’s living room window, blocking out the shine from one of the streetlights opposite Harry’s building whilst also trying to contain the warmth that Harry’s radiators are pumping into the flat.

“Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind,” Zayn goes to shout after his curly haired boyfriend before Louis’ voice is stopping him, telling him to hang on the line for a bit.  His voice is a bit quieter as he speaks, as if he’s second guessing the words that he wants to speak, but he voices them anyway. “But, erm, Niall,”

Zayn cocks his head in confusion as he leans against the wall by the window, playing with the tie backs that Harry’s got hanging off of a hook as he waits for Louis to continue, to enlighten him on why he’s talking about his little blonde friend.  “What about Niall?”

“Does he ever hold a grudge?” Louis’ voice comes out as a bit of a laugh before he’s righting himself.  “I mean, does he always just let everything go, like forgive and forget?”

Zayn bites at his lip, confused for as to what Louis is asking him and he lets him know.  “What I mean is, does he ever accept the fact that sometimes you shouldn’t just forgive someone?  That sometimes there comes a point when you should just give up on someone and not wait around for an apology?”

“Lou, I don’t understand, I didn’t think you’d spoken to him since that drink weeks ago,” Zayn nibbles on the end of his thumb as his eyes dart towards where Harry’s leant in the doorframe, eyebrow cocked in a questioning manner. “Did something happen?” 

“Erm, well sort of, yeah; but that doesn’t matter now, it’s fine I think.  Anyway, I was just asking, it doesn’t matter though.” Louis is a whirlwind of words as he speaks and Zayn struggles to keep up with them before Louis is saying goodbye, that he has to go.

“I thought you wanted to talk to Haz,” Zayn reminds him just as Louis is saying a final goodbye down the phone, no doubt has his thumb hovering over the end call button as Zayn speaks, Zayn thinks.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry starts walking across the room towards the phone, seeming to sense the fact that Louis has remembered before Louis himself has.  “Yeah, can you put him on please?  It was good to talk to you though, Zee. Thanks.”

“No problem, mate, just passing you on,” Then the phone is in Harry’s hand and Zayn takes it upon himself to finish cooking their tea that Harry had been doing before Louis rang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any chapter title ideas, please leave them on the respective chapter and I'll choose my favourite. I'll give you credit if I chose your idea:)
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own, and please let me know if you have any comments:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	69. Chapter 69

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want someone to cook me dinner, they'd be re-payed with multiple hugs and kisses: win-win situation.

Zayn opens up the oven door to check the chicken’s nearly cooked and not yet burnt just before he starts chopping vegetables to put inside of the wraps that Harry’s already got lined up on their respective plates, dicing and chopping the vegetables that Harry’s left on the side as said boy talks to his best friend.

Harry comes in not much later, the phone still tacked to his ear as he speaks, lifting himself up to sit on the countertop next to Zayn so that he can steal pieces of food off of Zayn’s chopping board with a smirk as he continues to talk.

Zayn shakes his head affectionately at the curly haired boy as he lowers his knife, abandoning it on the chopping board before he raises five fingers up towards him, signalling that their tea will be ready in around that time. 

Harry nods his head, understanding Zayn’s message as he kicks out his legs to wrap them around Zayn’s waist, pulling him in so that he’s stood between Harry’s legs as said boy continues to talk.

“He obviously understood why you did it then?” Harry nods his head, regardless of the fact Louis on the other end of the phone cannot see it, it makes Zayn grin adoringly at his boyfriend as he draws patterns in the leg of his dark jeans, Harry’s thighs clenching occasionally to force Zayn to stop poking at them.

“Did you tell him?”

“You didn’t?  But you said he accepted your apology.”

“Oh, so he just accepted it then, no explanation or anything?”

Zayn doesn’t like hearing only half of the conversation and he lets Harry know by pouting at him, purposely jutting his lower lip out as far as he can to make Harry pity him as much as he possibly can.  He’s rewarded with a kiss of sympathy from Harry.

“No, I haven’t told him anything, I’m pretty sure Zayn hasn’t either.”  Harry’s eyes fall on Zayn and he just stands like a deer in headlights, not knowing what he’s being asked, nor how he’s supposed to respond. 

“Just let me ask him,” Harry says into the phone before he pulls it from his ear.  “You didn’t say anything about Lou to Niall, did you?”

Zayn shakes his head wordlessly and Harry smiles, rubbing his thumb over the stubble of Zayn’s jaw as he raises the phone back up the his ear, speaking into the mouthpiece as Zayn turns to check the chicken again.

“Zayn didn’t say anything, so I don’t know.  Maybe he just understood or something?  Just thought you were claustrophobic or something like that?”

“I honestly don’t know, Lou.  But I guess you should just stop worrying about it, what happened, happened and you just have to accept the fact that he just understood you.”

“I know you don’t want to just accept something that you don’t know, but unless you fancy asking him, then you’re gonna have to, sadly.”

“Yeah, right mate.  Zayn’s just got tea cooked, so I’m gonna have to go, I’ll talk to you later though, yeah?  Night, Lou.”

Harry rubs his hand over his eyes, pushing his hair off of his face in the process as Zayn loads their plates up with strips of chicken he’s torn off of the bone and pieces of vegetables, all wrapped up inside the tortillas.

“Love you,” Harry grins when Zayn passes him a plate and cutlery as he picks up his own, relocating himself to Harry’s kitchen table whilst Harry refuses to move and just eats atop the countertop, smiling around each bite of his food, feeling it dribble down his face, but not caring as he wipes at it with the back of his hand.

“Love you too, you mucky pup,” Zayn chuckles, tearing a piece of kitchen roll off of the roll and reaching across to dab at Harry’s face with it to mop up the tomato juice that’s trickling devilishly down his jaw.

“Cheers, Zee,” Harry chuckles, licking at Zayn’s fingers when they move towards his mouth, but Zayn just laughs, wiping them down Harry’s t-shirt in retaliation.  “Tastes real good, I am proud.”

“What,” Zayn chuckles, pulling a piece of red pepper out of his tortilla and eating it on its own as he turns in his chair to face Harry, grin on his lips.  “The fact that I managed not to burn the raw vegetables or the fact that the oven cooked chicken wasn’t raw?”

“The fact the vegetables aren’t burnt,” Harry smirks, eyes glimmering in the light of the room as Zayn rolls his eyes at his boyfriend, grabbing at his foot in retaliation and tickling gently, playfully.

Harry’s laugh booms out around the room just as he kicks Zayn’s hand off of his foot, scowling at Zayn as he tucks his feet up under himself, away from potential future attacks. 

“You don’t want to do that,” Harry warns, as he lifts his tortilla back up to his lips, taking a bite that Zayn would bet his left leg for is too big for Harry’s mouth but he manages to chew and swallow it without dropping any of it down himself so Zayn grins, impressed.

“And why would I not want to do that, Hazza Bear?” Zayn smirks, lifting his wrap up to his lips as he waits to hear what threat Harry’s formulating within his head.

“Because that’s why Louis was calling,” Zayn frowns but Harry continues on in his slow drawl.  “Why he was asking about Niall,” Zayn’s eyes widen in deeper interest and he watches Harry closely as he waits for Harry to swallow his current bite of food so that he can pick up where he finished his explanation again. 

“Niall tickled him and Louis went funny with him,” Zayn’s eyes widen, understanding what Harry’s going to say before he lets it slip past his lips.  “Louis felt as though he was being held down, so he-”

“He went sick,” Zayn guess with a sad smile, both for his blonde friend for being on the receiving end of that and for Louis for being the one that would have to live with the aftershocks of something he had no say in.

Harry nods his head solemnly, a smile as sad as Zayn’s on his lips as he speaks.  “Yeah, he didn’t take too kindly to it, shall we say.  But Niall forgave him more or less instantly.  Louis said he came into the kitchen, where Louis had run off to, to say sorry as soon as it had happened and texted him saying he was sorry as well.”

Zayn smiles - that’s Niall he knows and loves; the Niall that can’t stand having someone feel as if they cannot approach him, the Niall who hates first meetings because the other person will try to hold something about themselves back because they don’t actually know him.

“That’s my Nialler,” Zayn grins, starting to eat again as Harry hums in agreement, letting them eat in silence, the only sound in the room the light thrum of the radio Harry had turned on earlier as they eat, occasionally catching each other’s eyes and grinning like teenagers with a dirty little secret.

And at one point in their lives that’s what they were; only they had different secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own, if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Remember to send in your chapter title ideas if you have any:)


	70. Don't let it get you down (bite back)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Biting back is cool.
> 
> Chapter names, my friends, if you will:)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to my cheerleader, MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3

‘Nothing to be sorry for, Lou.  I’m the one that should be sorry, and I am.  I hope this doesn’t change anything :)’

Louis’ eyes crinkle at the corners as he reads Niall’s reply, still sat upon his kitchen floor where Niall left him.

‘Doesn’t change anything on my part :)’ Louis stops himself from pressing send just as his thumb is hovering over the button, his head pressed back against the doorknobs of his kitchen cupboards as he corrects his text.  ‘I’m sorry again.’

He doesn’t get a reply straight away but Louis feels a huge weight lift off of his shoulders the moment there’s a time stamp on the text, finally allowing himself to get back up on his legs, feeling very much like Bambi on ice as he teeters around his apartment.

He heads straight into the living room to get a close up of the pile that Niall made earlier and smiles, whipping his phone out of his pocket.  ‘Thanks for clearing up, Ni :)’

His DVD’s are in a tidy pile at the foot of the sofa, _Twilight_ on top of the pile and Louis gulps back the devastating noise that’s trying to force its way up his throat at the sight of the case. 

He averts his eyes as he picks up the pile of DVD’s, sitting cross-legged on the floor as he puts the cases back in his bookcase, grinning at the stories that were told over them not that long ago.

How Niall had caught his brother more or less groping his girlfriend when Niall was younger as Greg and Lucy watched _Die_ _Hard_ , Niall creeping down the stairs to see why there was a whimper as if a dog was in their living room, demanding attention: he’d been sent straight back up to his bedroom with Lucy blushing and pulling her shirt back down whilst Niall made his way back up the stairs, confused.

That Niall’s dad had taken him to the cinema to watch _Scooby_ _Doo_ for his eighth birthday and how excited he had been to go, because he’d never been before to the cinema before.  That he’d eaten all of his popcorn before the film had even started, chewing happily as the trailers scrolled past his eyes, completely entranced with the whole situation.

How Niall had had his first kiss as he watched _Mission_ _Impossible_ with a girl from school and their noses had bumped on three occasions as they both rotated their heads the same way each time as they headed in for the kill, before laughing at each other and carrying on watching the film.

How Niall’s childhood had been spent watching Disney films with Liam, the boys taking it in turn to go around to each other’s house one day a month with a new Disney film for them to watch as they had a sleep over; the tradition continuing long into their teens when they met Zayn, though it started to morph more into a superhero film night as the two brown-eyed boys were infatuated with them.

‘Haha, anytime :) And honestly it’s fine, Lou.’

‘Yeah?’ Louis bites his lip as he types on the screen, his feet tucked up underneath his thighs to keep them warm.

‘Course :)’

Louis picks himself up off of the floor, the DVD’s all lined up on his bookcase shelves, dropping himself back down onto his sofa, watching the final credits scroll down the screen before they fade to blackness and the title menu for _Fast and Furious_ is displayed loud and proud across the pixels once again.

‘We never got to finish Fast and Furious :(‘

Louis presses the button on the TV remote to pop open the DVD drawer so that he can remove the disk from the drawer, sliding it back into its respective case before he’s lining it up against _Grease_ on his DVD cabinet.

‘We’ll watch it next time, yeah?’

Louis grins as he thinks about having Niall walk back through his front door again, about having Niall come back into his life again after he’d been adamant that he would never be back, less than an hour ago.

‘Yeah :) I’m off to bed now, Ni.  I’ll talk to you later, yeah?’

Louis tucks himself up under his duvet, slipping himself out of his raggedy old clothes and into his pyjamas, pulling the sleeves down to cover his hands to keep them warm. 

When his head hits the pillow, skull sinking into the fibres of the stuffing, a smile perks up on his lips, making his eyes crinkle like he’s just approaching his 100th birthday; and it’s not just from the comforting warmth of his bed.

‘Night-night, Lou!  Sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite – bite them back ;)’

Louis can barely contain his smile as sleep takes him hostage, his phone still in his hand; desperate to never let Niall slip from between his fingers, ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	71. Say Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://cdn.onedirection.net/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/Nial-Horan-drinking-coffee.jpg
> 
> Chapter names would be lovely:)
> 
> Wrote this just after listening to 'Say Something' by A Great Big World, makes me cry every time, don't even need to video to make me a blubbering mess! <3

Niall and Louis text throughout the days that roll on in front of them, lighting up each other’s lives with little insights of knowledge and snippets of each other’s lives and thoughts.

‘If it was up to me, no item would ever be 99p, I’m running out of change!:(‘

Louis grins, sliding his phone back into his pocket as he sneaks around the small corner shop, eyes flicking from person to person nervously as he grips tighter and tighter to his newspaper, sliding it onto the counter to be scanned with multiple crinkles littering its surface. 

Louis ignores the wondering eyes of the cashier when he curls deeper in on himself as another customer stands behind him, waiting to be served as Louis hands over his change, scurrying out of the shop as fast as he can, clutching his newspaper in a death grip, his anxiousness trickling down his forehead and lacing his brows.

‘There should be a minimum amount of fruit that is put inside of a scone, to stop people from being ripped off.’

Louis grins as he stretches himself out along the length of his sofa, his eyes immediately falling off of his phone and the text he just sent off to Niall, wiping the crumbs off of his chin as his eyes land on his house phone.

He pulls himself up out of the comfort of the cushions, nervous yet excited to see if any of his calls have been returned from the workplaces which he applied for, roping Harry and Zayn in earlier that week to try and get his CV and references sorted.

When he comes up empty he sighs, picking up the new newspaper that he bought earlier in the day and thumbing through it before he reaches the job section, eyes burning down into the adverts as he thumbs the numbers into his phone, preparing himself to sound as if he can hold his own and that people don’t actually freak him out.

“Hello, I’m calling to apply for your job offering...”

‘Scone or scone, my friend? ;)’

Louis grins despite the fact his job application was rejected more or less the moment he mentioned his skills and achievements, as apparently he’s not ‘readily trained for the role’ that he applied for.

‘Depends on the day :P’

He types back, nibbling on his nails as he totters around his apartment, preparing food for when Zayn and Harry come over later, a kind of thank you on Louis’ part for them helping him with his  job application forms and just generally being there when he needed them.

‘So what day is it today then? ;)’

Louis chuckles, knowing that Niall’s just winding him up, but texting back regardless, wanting to make Niall laugh, even if he can’t see or hear it in person.

‘Scone ;)’

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he grins down at it, cleaning his hands from where he’s been chopping chicken and battering it in breadcrumbs for his, Harry and Zayn’s tea later on in the day.

‘OMG, me too ;)’

‘Really? ;)’

‘Yeah! ;) 

‘You on break?  Don’t want you getting fired, Ni.’

Niall takes a while to respond and Louis takes that as his answer as he wraps the pieces of chicken up in cling film, sliding them into the fridge to cook later when Harry and Zayn come round.

Louis thumbs open the picture message that comes through to his phone - the vibrations making his skin tingle as his phone notifies him of his newly received message - grinning when he’s met with Niall’s face and the small caption at the bottom. ‘Yeah, at Li’s coffee shop, he says hi :)’

‘Hi, Liam :) Enjoying your coffee?’

‘Not coffee, it’s tea :)’

Louis’ eyebrow lifts up into an arch, cocking his head to the side as he reads Niall’s message.

‘You’re at a coffee shop and you’re drinking tea?  You’re my kind of person, Niall ;)’

Louis bites at his lower lip before he presses send, wondering if he may have gone one step too far, but the message is gone, zooming up to the satellites and down into Niall’s phone before he can take it back.

‘Glad to hear, you’re my sort of person too :)’

Louis grins from ear to ear, not quite knowing how to respond to that, but going with it anyway, throwing his phone away from himself as he presses send, not wanting to see the reaction his message is going to get.

‘You wanna come round?  Got Harry and Zayn coming round for tea later, you can join us if you’d like?  I’ll won’t freak out again, promise x’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> 5SOS - She's So Perfect, people - go listen, it's amazing! <3


	72. Surprisingly better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet Nouis' homemade Nandos;)
> 
> I'm still looking for chapter title names, so if you have any ideas, please let me know:)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to the best cheerleader in the world, MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3

Harry’s gloves are massive around his fingers, making Zayn feel like a small child wearing his father’s gloves as they knock on Louis’ front door, not quite expecting Niall’s flash of blonde hair to greet them.

“Hey guys,” Niall greets, gesturing for them to follow him inside of Louis’ flat, shutting the door behind them as they wander through, confused eyes meeting each others.  “Louis’ getting ready, he should be out soon.”

“Always leaves it to the last minute,” Zayn chuckles, dropping himself down onto Louis’ sofa and propping his feet up on the coffee table with a smirk in Harry’s direction, knowing that Harry doesn’t like it and will scold him half-heartedly for ‘disrespecting’ Louis’ home.

Harry just shakes his head at his boyfriend, sliding down into the seat next to his boyfriend and kicking said boy’s feet off of the table top with a smirk as Zayn whinges at him playfully. 

Harry grins at his boyfriend as he leans up into Zayn’s space, eyes set on Zayn’s lips and Harry eyes the smirk on them just as he drops his feet in Zayn’s lap, watching the dissatisfaction show on Zayn’s face and laughing at him, before he’s dropping his attention to Niall.

Said boy is flitting into the kitchen, his snapback tucked into the back pocket of his jeans and Harry’s more than certain that’s Louis’ top that he’s wearing, not his own.  Harry’s proven to be right when he sees Niall’s damp work shirt hung over Louis’ radiator across the other side of the room.

 “It’s raining bloody hard,” Niall comments, seemingly reading Harry’s mind, as he comes back out of the kitchen carrying cans of beer and bottles of Coca Cola in his arms, glasses tucked beneath his arms against his chest.  “Beer or Coke, guys?” 

Niall sets to work sorting out their drinks whilst Harry and Zayn start to have a silent conversation with their eyes, asking when the blonde haired boy was allowed back into Louis’ life after their argument; when they definitely put all of what occurred between themselves, just a little bit under two weeks ago, behind them.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here, Ni,” Zayn says as Niall hands him his glass of Coca Cola, thanking the boy with a smile, the beer seemingly going untouched by the boys, making Niall pout; he wanted some beer.

“Neither did I,” Niall chuckles in his hearty Irish laugh, making Harry grin and Zayn laugh, just watching Niall throw his head back contently over the smallest of things. 

“Lou texted me when I was on my break inviting me round for tea with you guys,” His happy smile falls from his lips as he starts to raise his glass to his lips, eying the two boys on the sofa.  “Should I not be here?  I don’t mind leaving.”

“Niall, don’t be silly,” Louis’ says as he ducks out of his bedroom down the end of the hall, dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that clings to his muscles.  “You’re staying, even if I have to tie you to the sofa to keep you here,”

“Kinky,” Niall whispers, following his comment with a laugh just as Louis reaches out for Niall’s glass of Coca Cola, sipping at it before he chokes on it, hearing Niall’s words.

He wipes at his mouth self-consciously as he hands the glass back to Niall, not saying a word as he works to stop the trickle of Coca Cola from staining his white t-shirt; probably the cleanest thing he’s worn in just under a month, if he’s being honest with himself.

Zayn and Harry just watch how the pair react after the comment, Niall seemingly oblivious to what he said and how it affected Louis, whilst said boy just smiles small and starts to walk into the kitchen, shouting that tea will be ready soon and they should all start getting themselves sat around the table.

“Coming, Haz?” Zayn asks as he and Niall head over to the small dining table that’s pushed up against the far side of Louis’ living room, Niall pulling it out so that they can all sit around the expanse of it.

“Yeah,” Harry waves Zayn off, communicating with his eyes as he flicks his head towards the kitchen where Louis is pottering around.  “I’ll be out in a bit, gonna help Lou plate up the food.”

Zayn nods understandingly as he slings an arm across Niall’s shoulders as they drop into their seats at the table, chattering on about how their respective days at work had been and such, before all Harry can hear is the mash of their voices in the distance and he’s leant against the kitchen counter next to Louis.

“He didn’t mean anything by what he said, y’know,” Harry says, ducking his head to try to look into Louis’ eyes as he said boy tries to plate up their food, sliding a piece of bread crumbed chicken onto each plate with chips and topping them all with a slither of grated cheese on top.

“I know he didn’t,” Louis sounds calm and Harry forces Louis to lower the plates that he picked up off of the counter, back onto it as he lifts Louis’ face, keeping their eyes in direct contact as Harry scans them for any sign that he’s uncomfortable with what’s about to go down between the four of them.  “It’s fine, Haz; honestly.”

“Yeah?” Harry doesn’t mean to make his breath hitch as he says it, so surprised by the fact that Louis is acting like his old self, as if nothing has happened that would have cause Niall’s playful comment to make Louis’ eyes become shrouded in sadness, not even for a millisecond.

“Yeah,” Louis says, stepping out of Harry’s arms and picking back up the two plates that Harry forced him to lower, balancing one in each hand as he cocks his head towards the two remaining plates.  “Get yours and Zayn’s, yeah?”

Harry nods, picking them up as he wanders back into the living room, listening to the hilarious conversations that Niall and Zayn are having once again, and hearing Louis’ laugh jumble into that mix just makes his heart swell with pride, grinning at his friend as if he singlehandedly hung the stars in the sky.

But really, that’s more Zayn’s achievement, if he’s being honest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Check out my other work, if you'd like to:)


	73. The love tonight (can you feel it?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm sorry for the word count of this story - I more than understand that it's getting absolutely diabolical and that it's causing some of you trouble as you can't be bothered to read it all, but for those of you that have stuck with me, even through the pointless chapters, thank you<3
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to the one and only, MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3

Niall is all smiles throughout the night, passing joke after joke across the table, grinning across at Louis as he does, as if savouring the fact that he’s been allowed back in Louis’ life, Zayn thinks.

Harry squeezes at Zayn’s hand across the table as he smiles at him, dimples sinking deep into his cheeks and his teeth thrusting out from between his rosy pink lips as he does; Zayn can’t help but grin back, heart fluttering at his boyfriend.

“You want some more chicken, Zee?” Louis asks as he rises from the table, hands laden with plates before Niall’s by his side, slipping them out of his hands as he halves Louis’ workload, taking a pair of the dirty plates from between his fingers.

“We all know he does,” Harry chuckles, reaching across the table top to poke at Zayn’s cheek with a cheeky grin lining his lips.  “He and Niall are a bit obsessed with it, according to Liam, anyway.”

Louis seems to frown, cocking his hip to lean against the back of his chair as Niall starts carrying plates into the kitchen, the sound of the oven door opening and closing beckoning around the clatter of plates and cutlery hitting the kitchen top.

“I didn’t invite Liam,” Louis drops his eyes, lowering the plates he’s got in his hands subconsciously as he does so, before Niall’s popping back up in his space and telling Louis that _he’s got it,_ taking the porcelain from his hands.  “Niall was with Liam when I invited him, but I didn’t invite Liam.”

Louis sounds frustrated with himself as he falls down into his chair, clenching his fists under the table before Niall’s dropping a fresh plate of food in front of him with a cheery smile and a pat to his shoulder. 

“He won’t mind, Lou.”  Louis eyes him disbelieving as Niall totters around the table, delivering the remaining plates that Louis was supposed to be preparing.  “Honestly, he’s supposed to be seeing Alex tonight, so he wouldn’t have been able to come anyway.”

The arch of Louis’ shoulders freeze, his eyes dancing towards the bright blue of Niall’s as he takes in his words, seemingly something about that sentence not sitting right in his gut, but neither Harry nor Zayn can pick up what, whilst Niall doesn’t seem to notice.

“What’s wrong, Lou?” Louis jumps at the sound of Harry’s voice, ducking his head and saying that nothing’s wrong, that he was just thinking, but he falls unusually quiet after that, cat got his tongue as they eat.

Louis rises to take the plates to wash up before Niall’s up and out of his seat, grinning at Louis and saying that he’ll do it, that Louis should sit down and relax.  His argument when Louis refuses to relax, that Louis deserves it for inviting him round, _it’s the least I could do, Lou_.

Louis’ resolve melts instantly when Niall darts off into the kitchen, whistling as he goes as Harry and Zayn look between each other and Louis, trying to work out the words to say.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Lou,” Harry says, voice nervous and Louis’ ears prick up at it, eyes meeting Harry’s before they’re flicking to Zayn’s, questioning him if he knows why Harry sounds so concerned.

“Haven’t really had a lot to say,” Louis shrugs, leaning back in his seat and fiddling with his fork, pushing his fingers into the prongs to see the dips in his skin form, as if Harry’s dimples have relocated out of Harry’s cheeks and onto the ends of his fingertips.  “Not a lot has been going on recently.”

Harry flinches at Louis’ words, understanding that he’s meaning his lack of sociability, the fact his job applications keep being rejected and because the last time he attempted to be normal he had run out of a supermarket as if he was running away from a pack of blood-thirsty wolves; the fact that he’s different now.

“I bet something’s been going on, I mean it’s like three weeks to Christmas, there’s always a disaster or something around now,” Zayn tries to lighten the situation before both Louis and Harry flinch at his words; the disaster’s already happened.  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Zayn tries and Louis smiles small at him saying that he knows he doesn’t.  “What I meant was, Christmas isn’t Christmas without something happening; a bit like Eastenders, if you will.” 

Louis chuckles whilst Harry reaches across the table to hit playfully at Zayn’s chest.  “You are the worst, Zee!”  Zayn just rolls his eyes, grinning at his giggling boyfriend and his brunette friend as he leans back in his chair, just as Niall comes back in, hands slightly wrinkled from the washing up water that’s dampened the cuffs of Louis’ shirt that’s wrapped around his torso, as he drops back into his seat.

“What’d I miss?” He asks, noting the tears of laughter in both Louis and Harry’s eyes as they giggle, trying to stop their laughter from bubbling from between their lips and erupting into massive fits of chuckles that they won’t be able to breathe through, like old times.

“Zayn’s trying to be deep,” Louis giggles, grinning and kicking lightly at Zayn’s ankle under the table, meeting his eyes and looking genuinely happy before he drops his attention back on the blonde when he starts talking.

“Is it working?  His attempts to be deep, I mean?” Niall’s grinning, the beginnings of a smirk drifting up onto his lips as he looks across at Zayn, childish gleam in his eyes.

“Not really,” Harry says, eyes shining with joy as he leans back in his seat, propping his feet on top of Zayn’s under the tabletop.  “He’s being endearing, but not really deep, to be honest.”

Zayn squawks in protest, knocking Harry’s feet off of his own as he crosses his arms over his chest in a huff, the three boys around the table falling into fits of giggles as they watch his childish acts and Zayn can’t help but grin behind his facade of being annoyed; he loves these guys.

“We love you really, Zee,” Niall coos, leaning across in his seat to place his head on Zayn’s shoulder, eyes big and bright and lovely as he looks up into Zayn’s own, the streams of yellow from the light above Louis’ dining table sparking flickers of fires in his orbs.

“Yeah, yeah,” Zayn huffs, not in the mood to push Niall off of him as he moves to get up out of his chair, eyes wandering to the cans of beer on Louis’ coffee table that Niall brought in when they arrived.  “The one thing that truly loves me is the beer sat on the coffee table,”

The three boys just laugh at him, but he smiles along anyway, passing the six pack backwards once he’s collected one for himself, so that the boys can have one if they want; he loves his boys, he truly does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	74. Chapter 74

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really want to ruin the surprise...

The night goes by flawlessly, the four men chuckling away as they watch the TV, beers clenched in all of their hands, bar Louis’, not wanting the liquid to run through his system quite yet, not quite trusting it.

“Right, well I think we’d better be off, Haz,” Zayn says, glugging back the final dregs of his beer as Harry lays across his lap, toying with the buttons on Zayn’s jacket before his big, green eyes are meeting Zayn’s in the darkness of the room.

Harry goes to protest but then Zayn’s lifting him off of him, his hands tight around his waist as he carries Harry up into the air, a smile on his lips when Harry’s fingers tighten around his biceps and his eyes widen comically.

“We don’t have to,” Harry whines, suspended in midair by Zayn’s hands as Niall and Louis smile at the curly haired boy across the other side of the room.

“Ah, but we do,” Zayn chuckles, sliding his hands down Harry’s sides to rest on his hips as Harry’s feet hit the floor.  “You and I both know we have work in the morning.” Harry groans at Zayn’s words, leaning into Zayn’s chest and nipping playfully at the fabric, teeth gracing his skin gently. 

“Don’t need to go,” Harry whines, voice masked by Zayn’s t-shirt as he keeps himself tucked up inside of it, whilst Zayn starts to walk backwards around Louis’ flat, picking up his jacket off of the back of the dining chair he sat on just hours before.

“Sadly, we do,” Zayn runs his fingers through Harry’s hair, tugging his fingers through the snags in Harry’s hair, feeling him nuzzle into his hand, nosing at his palm as he looks up at Zayn, eyes bright yet tired.

Harry huffs, knowing he’s not going to win this argument with Zayn and kissing at his palm anyway before he backs out of Zayn’s space and toddles over to Louis, dropping into his friend’s lap as he hugs him, breathing him in and smiling against his neck.

“Take care of yourself, yeah?” Harry whispers, nose tucked up in Louis’ throat, hearing the hum of content as it travels up the slender column, hands tightly fisted in the shoulders of Louis’ t-shirt. 

“Right, we had better be off,” Harry pulls himself off of Louis then, grinning down at the brunette boy as he stands up, towering over the smaller boy.  “I’ll be round sometime in the week, yeah?  And go and do that shopping, get something other than ready meals down ya.”

Louis chuckles, kicking his foot out at Harry’s calf in protest, barely making contact but grinning despite himself, regardless.  “I do eat more than just ready meals, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry chuckles, eyes crinkling as he hears the infectious twinkle of Louis’ laugh gracing his ears.  “You eat toast as well, don’t you; my apologies.”  He smirks when Louis rolls his eyes, waving him off with a grin.

“Right, it’s been nice, Lou, thanks for having us,” Zayn smiles, leaning his forearms over the back of the sofa to pat at Louis’ hair, causing said boy to squawk in protest, igniting a belly-clenching laugh from Niall across from him; Louis reaching out to hit at the blonde’s chest to get him to shut up. 

“Anyway, I’ll see you soon, yeah?  Niall, you too, text me when you organise another night out, yeah?”  Niall nods, grinning as he plans it in his head, reminding himself to try and remember to organise a night out; he could really do with one, especially now that Zayn’s mentioned it.

“Night guys!” Zayn and Harry chorus, their fingers twined into a mass of digits as they exit through Louis’ front door and down the corridor, no doubt hitting the cold of the outside air before they’ve even opened the front door of the building; the structure rickety and badly insulated, the door swinging wide open when even a slight gale breezes through the air, freezing the air inside instantly.

Louis turns to Niall the moment the loved up pairs’ chatter cannot be heard through the door, the walls ceasing to rattle with the pitch of their voices as they disappear down the few flights of stairs that take them to the building’s entrance.

Niall’s grinning, lips stretched wide as he watches Louis, eyes twinkling in delight as Louis ducks his head, cheeks flushing as he buries in on himself, bringing his feet to hide under his thighs.  “What’re you grinning at?”

“You,” Niall chuckles, eyes never leaving Louis’ face as the smaller lad ducks, trying to hide his flush and the smile that’s playing on his lips.  “Anyway, I had better go,”

Louis frowns, lifting his head to meet Niall’s eyes again as he uncurls from himself.  “You wanna leave?”  Louis sounds desperate to his own ears; he bites at his lip to scold himself for it.

Niall’s eyes fall on him instantly, stopping his attempts to lift himself off of Louis’ sofa and instead sitting on the edge of it, watching Louis carefully as he turns to face the smaller boy. 

“Course I don’t _want_ to leave,” Niall smiles, reaching across the sofa cushions to squeeze at Louis’ knee, fingers tender as they touch Louis, as if not quite trusting himself, or Louis, not to freak out at the contact.  “I just have to; I’ve got work tomorrow, as well.”

The light dances back into Louis’ eyes as Niall says those words, falling back into himself and smiling, somewhat small yet real as he takes in the syllables that are blazoned in the essence of Niall’s accent.  “Oh well, okay then.”

“Okay?” Niall chuckles, standing up off of the sofa and holding out his hand for Louis, the brunette boy placing his smaller palm in the pale one, belonging to the blonde, allowing himself to be tugged up.  “You’re mental,” Niall coos, eyes squinting as he laughs, walking across the room to pick up his coat before his eyes are falling on the t-shirt that’s stretched across his chest.  “Erm, here’s your shirt back,”

Niall goes to pull it off of his body, his hands dipping under the fabric to get a grasp on it before Louis is stopping him, his hand reaching out to knock Niall’s away from the hem of the shirt.  “It’s fine, keep it, your stuff’s probably still a bit damp.”

Niall smiles, removing his hands and picking his coat up off of the radiator to test it, feeling the slight damp still sitting between the fibres, but pulling it up his arms regardless.  “My coat’s not too bad, I’ll change out of your shirt if you want, my shirt’s probably dry by now.”

Louis shakes his head.  “Nah, honestly, keep it.  It doesn’t fit me anymore anyway, really.” Louis frowns down at himself, his belly starting to poke out of his shirt like it never used to.  “Anyway, that way I’ll be able to bribe you over easier to watch _Fast and Furious,_ because you’ll have my shirt to return.”

“That I will,” Niall grins as Louis blushes, biting at his tongue for saying what he did, whilst Niall’s attention falls back onto his borrowed shirt, thumbing over the stitching of the hem as he starts to zip up his coat, tucking his feet into his shoes as he walks towards the front door, Louis hot on his heels.  “Tonight has been good,”

Louis smiles, leaning against the frame of the door as Niall stands out in the corridor of his building, grinning easily across at Louis.  “It’s been good,” Louis agrees, head resting on the door frame.

“We’ll watch _Fast and Furious_ next time,” Niall promises, stretching out his pinky finger and holding it out for Louis to take.  When their fingers do join, sealing a bond between them they chuckle, watching each other before Niall turns on his heels, heading down the creaky wooden floor of the corridor.

Louis doesn’t know when he does it but the next thing he knows he’s got his petite hand wrapped around Niall’s thicker wrist, fingers clenched around the pale skin as he pulls Niall into himself, pressing his lips desperately against the blonde’s before he’s pulling away instantly, eyes widening dramatically as Niall looks at him, cheeks flushed.  “Lou?”

The words hit Louis’ ears but they don’t travel any further, bouncing off of his ear drums and back into the air as he wanders mindlessly back inside of his apartment, footsteps uncoordinated as he daren’t look back, piercing his lower lip with his teeth as he worries it, falling against his front door, head falling back against it and rattling his brain within his skull.

Stupid Louis, he scolds, clenching his fists by his sides and hitting them against the carpet of his living room; frustrated in not only himself for kissing Niall, but for Niall not pushing him away.

Stupid Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ready for your screams;)
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	75. Chapter 75

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lex with feelings involved; I wonder how I should ruin this?
> 
> 1 hit off of 5,000 and I kudo off of 100 - have I mentioned that I absolutely adore you all? Cause I do.

Liam grins as Alex stands pigeon-toed in his living room, eyes darting around the room, taking everything in.  “Are those Ruth and Nicola, then?”

Liam looks across at the picture that’s taken Alex’s interest, smiling when he eyes the two blondes, smiles stretched across their lips as they hold onto each other, eyes twinkling with the camera’s flash glistening in them.

“Yeah, that’s them.” He reaches across to straighten the picture on the table against the wall, stroking the slight dust off of the top of it as he repositions it.  “Haven’t seen them in what feels like years.”

“I know what you mean,” Alex says, walking across the room to further inspect the images that litter both Liam’s walls and surfaces between trinkets and the occasional superhero paraphernalia that makes Alex chuckle, smiling endearingly at them.  “It’s the same with me and my brothers.”

Liam edges into the kitchen, popping on the kettle as he asks what Alex would like to drink, grinning when he asks for coffee.  “I like coffee, especially when you make it.” Alex blushes, ducking his head and looking up at Liam through his eyelashes.  “That’s what keeps me coming into work each day.”

Liam chuckles, lips stretched into a grin as he set about making a drink for the pair of them, dusting the coffee granules inside of the mugs before he’s adding milk to both his and Alex’s; knowing how he likes it without even asking.  He pours the water into the mugs after, turning round to meet eyes with Alex as he hands him his cup.  “You put the milk in before the water?”

“Yeah,” Liam stubs his shoe into the floor, feeling self-conscious as Alex lifts the mug to his lips, taking back a hearty mouthful and smiling around it.  “Well it makes a difference, Li.” Liam lifts his head, hearing his name fall from between Alex’s lips.   “It tastes really good.”

“You’re inclined to say that,” Liam mumbles, taking a sip of his drink, wincing when it scolds his tongue, making him jump slightly.  “You’re my boyfriend.”

Liam bites his tongue, eyes bulging out of their sockets as his cheeks darken in a blush that heats his entire soul.  He feels his teeth start to pierce through his tongue but he has no care for it when Alex is looking down at him with sincere blue eyes.

“Boyfriend?”

Liam curls in on himself, feeling his stomach convulse as if he needs to be sick; and really, he does.  “I didn’t mean that,” He tries, voice quiet and desperate to his own ears as Alex’s eyes continue to roam over his face.

Alex slides his mug down onto the kitchen counter by Liam, eyes never leaving Liam’s face.  “And what if,” Alex says, stepping closer to Liam, taking Liam’s hands in his own and bringing the pair of them closer to one another.  “I wanted to be inclined to say that your coffee’s are beyond brilliant?”

Liam’s eyes flicker between Alex’s, hunting down what he means when he can’t quite voice the question he wants to, all chances of his voice travelling up his throat dying the moment Alex’s thumb brushes over his knuckle, ghosting over the skin and between each knuckle.

Alex keeps their bodies close, their breath dancing in the other’s face as they merely watch each other, both wanting an answer to their questions but not daring to break the silence that has fallen between them.

Liam licks at his lips, feeling them start to dry up on his face as Alex’s breath teases over them from between his pink lips; so near yet so far from where they should be.  He lifts his head, nibbling at his lip again as he chooses his words, just watching the blue of Alex’s eyes drown him slowly but surely in the most magnificent of ways.

“I-I-”

Liam jumps at the sound of knocking on his door, bolting straight out of Alex’s arms as he pulls open his front door, cheeks a brilliant crimson as Niall looks up at him, confusion in his eyes.  “I can leave if you’re busy.”

Liam shakes his head, running a hand desperately through his hair as he tries to collect his breath, be able to form words.  “Not busy, come in.”

His heart aches as he sees the not quite sad gleam of Alex’s eyes when he looks back at the dark haired male; he knows the words he wants to say, just doesn’t trust his resolve to use them properly.

I love you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own, if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	76. He didn't want to ( or did he?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My internet's been down, so I'm sorry this is being posted so late! I hope you like it:)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to my fabulous cheerleader, MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3

“Louis kissed you?” Liam asks, eyebrows furrowing between his eyes as he watches his blonde friend, nursing his coffee in his hands.

Niall nods, looking down at his own coffee cup, trapping his lower lip between his teeth as he nibbles it, sinking down into the cushions of Liam’s sofa, feeling as if he’s cock blocking yet again, as Alex potters around in Liam’s kitchen, making popcorn.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Liam asks, tucking his feet back under himself when Alex comes back into the living room, placing himself down on the sofa behind Liam so that said boy can lean back against his chest.

Niall just shrugs his shoulders, dropping his eyes timidly as he tries to think of the answer for Liam’s question: what was wrong with it?

“Did you not want him to kiss you?” Alex asks, leaning over Liam’s shoulder to make eye contact with Niall, a tender smile on his lips as if he understands whilst he grabs a handful of popcorn, popping individual kernels into his mouth.

The blonde just shake his head again, his shoulders shrugging again also, not knowing the answers to the questions that he’s being asked, taking a handful of popcorn also, just to give himself something to do.

“I don’t really know,” Niall mumbles, nibbling at his lower lip as he sorts through his frenzy of conflicting thoughts.  “I guess I did, it’s not as if it was bad or anything.  I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Liam chuckles, eyes bright as he watches the confusion takeover Niall’s features.  “You maybe weren’t supposed to expect it, Ni.”

“No,” Niall shakes his head as the two boys’ attention falls on him, the pair trying to understand what the constant shake of the blonde’s head is supposed to symbolise.  “I don’t think he even expected it, really.”

“He wasn’t expecting it, yet he was the one that kissed you, yeah?” Niall nods in answer of Alex’s question.  “I think he must have known he was going to do it then, maybe he was just a little bit shocked that he did?”

“I don’t know,” Niall’s voice is quiet as he sips at his coffee, his eyelids daring to flutter closed as he remembers how he had been heading for his bed before Louis’ lips had pounced on him, a hint of Coca Cola teasing from Louis’ lips onto Niall’s as he did.  “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” Liam asks, eyes sincere as they watch Niall, wanting to help his blonde friend, yet not knowing quite how to.  “Why wouldn’t he want to kiss you?”

Niall shrugs, ducking his head as his cheeks start to become mottled with a vibrant flush that dances down below his collar; Louis’ collar, really since it’s Louis’ shirt.  He blushes harder as that fact runs through his mind.

“I’d want to kiss you,” Alex makes a surprised noise from behind Liam as said boy says the words, making Niall look up into his brown eyes, surprised, before chuckling at the open mouth of the dark haired male.  “If you know, you weren’t my best friend and stuff.”

“Good save,” Niall chuckles, grinning at Alex and Liam as they lock eyes, grinning at each other before Liam presses a chaste kiss to the end of Alex’s nose, smiling up at the blue-eyed boy that stole his heart.

They fall silent then, just watching the TV that had been left running, despite their lack of attention on it earlier, as their breathing becomes the soundtrack to the night, the occasional sipping of coffee and chewing of popcorn breaking up the quiet of the room.

“I don’t think he wanted to do it,” Niall whispers, picking at his nails as he avoids Liam and Alex’s questioning eyes, trying to bury himself deeper between Liam’s sofa cushions when realisation hits that those words weren’t just contained within his brain, and instead had slipped out into the atmosphere.

“Why wouldn’t he want to do it?” Liam asks, dropping his coffee mug onto the coffee table by the sofa, sitting up in his seat to drop all of his attention on Niall.

Niall squirms under the attention, feeling Liam’s eyes on his before he sees them, but ducking his head either way, hiding his eyes behind his hair.  “I don’t know,” He sighs, not wanting it to be the truth, but the way that Louis had looked at him as he pulled away, the look of complete and utter confusion before the horrified expression jumped onto his features.

Niall swallows, closing his eyes tightly shut to rid his mind of the picture that’s tattooed behind his eyelids; he can’t see that look again, he really can’t.

“I bet he wanted to do it,” Alex smiles, ignoring the questioning look that’s dancing in Liam’s eyes as he leans over said boy, reaching out a hand to place it on Niall’s shoulder, gaining his attention when the two blue eyed boys’ orbs meet.  “He more or less only wanted to talk to you when I saw you two when we went out a few weeks back.  He was all up in your space as well, wouldn’t leave you alone.”

Niall grins, thinking back to how Louis’ had hooked himself under his arm when Niall asked if he wanted to leave, how he’d been all honest with baby blue eyes when he had asked him if he was okay, that Louis had sunk deeper into his side than he had Harry’s throughout the night, he and Louis making constant conversation as the other’s babbled on around them.

“He just felt a little out of his depth,” Niall says, remembering the slight shiver that had ghosted over Louis’ frame throughout the night, the way he seemed to fidget every time a question was poised at him.

“Nah,” Alex smiles, eyes bright and alive as he gives his opinion, Liam tucked up under his arms as he speaks.  “From what I saw, he enjoyed your company, maybe more than you want to let yourself believe.”

Niall’s left speechless, cheeks starting to darken under the attention that both Alex and Liam have dropped on him, not enjoying it as much when it’s not Louis’ blue eyes on him at all times.

“Nah,” Niall tries, downing the last few dregs of his drink and contorting his face in disgust as the not quite dissolved granules hit his tongue, slipping down his throat.  “He just needed a friend and I was that friend.”

“I think you still are that friend,” Liam whispers, eyes soft and gentle and so like Liam that Niall can’t help smiling at his friend, reaching across to hug him, holding tightly onto the boy  before he pulls himself up off of the sofa, placing his mug in the kitchen.

“I hope I am,” Niall smiles small, walking over to the front door of Liam’s apartment, shrugging on his coat as he prepares to face the chill of the air on the way home.  “I like Lou, he’s cool.  Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, night, Nialler,” Liam smiles as Niall starts to walk out of the door, pulling it closed behind himself.  “Be safe and sleep well.”

“You too, Li,” Niall smirks across at his friend, wiggling his eyebrows before he’s ducking out of the apartment, Liam shouting at him to _shut up_ as he wanders down the corridor, heading home to his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	77. New Prospects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am quite honestly embarrassed by the length of this chapter...
> 
> Chapter title credit, as always goes to the one and only MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3

Louis is curled up tight on his sofa as the sun starts to trickle in through the curtains he forgot to shut earlier when Harry, Zayn and Niall had been round.

His stomach lurches just at the mere thought of the name and he hides himself deeper under the covers he’d buried himself under last night when he managed to get up off of his floor, bum going numb the longer he leant against the door feeling his self-hatred grow.

His home phone is shrill in his ear, piercing his ear drum and pulling him out of his self-loathing doze, his feet dragging as he walks over the worn fibres of his carpet towards the phone, eyes squinting as he tries to locate the edges of furniture, not fancying having his toes throbbing when he hits them.

The phone is a familiar weight in his hand as he pulls it up to his ear, keeping his eyes closed and rubbing at them with his clenched palm as the words tickle down the line and into his ear. 

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles, rolling his eyes back in his head as he tries to pay attention to the woman on the other end of the line.  “Can you repeat what you just said, the signal’s really bad.”

“Of course,” The voice that hits his ear is almost as shrill as his home phone when it rings, he winces.  “I was just ringing to offer you an interview for the position that you applied for.”

Louis cocks his head to the side; position?  “Oh, erm, can I ask who’s calling, please?”

“Marie James, manager of ‘Toys r Us’, London.”  She says, a smile in her voice as Louis grabs at the table in front of himself, gripping onto it so tightly that his nails start to dig into the grain of the wood, flakes of it digging into his fingertips and under his nails.

“’Toys r Us’?” He whispers, voice hoarse, not only in shock but also in pure joy as he tries to fit the words into a sentence that he deems appropriate: he needs this job, this opportunity.

“Yes, Mr Tomlinson, so would you like the interview?  If so, I can book you in now, if that would be fitting for you.”

“Yes, please,” He squawks, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets as nibbles on his nails, tapping his foot subconsciously against the carpet as he tries to take everything in.  “I’m available whenever you want me.”

“Whenever?” Louis makes an affirmative noise down the line, prompting Marie to start talking again, rattling off dates and times as Louis just agrees, more than thankful for any opportunity that she’s willing to give him.  “I look forward to meeting you, Mr Tomlinson.”

“Yeah, me too,” Louis whispers before Marie’s ringing off, leaving him with the buzzing of a dead line in his ear as he sinks to the floor on his haunches, just watching the world through rose tinted glasses.

He’s got a job.

Well, an interview.

He mentally applauds himself, grinning as he runs out of his flat, feet slapping on the pavement as he sprints, the wind in his hair and his clothes slept in and creased, but he doesn’t care for any of that as he edges closer and closer to Harry’s bakery, slipping inside with a face-splitting grin on his face.

He feels about ready to explode, most definitely so when he spies the flash of blonde by the counter, Harry grinning at him and waving him over as Niall flicks his head over his shoulder, eyes curious before they land on Louis.

He hates his life, he honest and truthfully does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	78. You've got this, babe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The holidays have finally arrived! I've felt like a member of the living dead ever since the first day back at school and I've been so desperate to be able to creep back into my coffin again, it's brilliant<3
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to the one and only MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh - check her out:)

By life, he means luck, as Niall twists himself around from his perch against the counter, eyes landing on Louis’ form as said brunette sinks into himself, fight or flight reaction taking place as Harry beckons him over with a smile.

“So what got you to leave your bedraggled apartment, Lou?” Harry smiles as Louis tiptoes up to the front counter, running his hands down his clothes self-consciously as he feels Niall’s eyes on him.

“Got some good news, I guess,” Louis shrugs, backing slowly away when Niall’s gaze becomes more fixed on him, his cheeks littered with a blush as their eyes meet.  “Erm, I’ll come back later, you look busy.”

Harry frowns, eyes squinting as he looks around the bakery, the entire shop floor empty bar himself, Niall and Louis.  “Don’t be silly, Lou,” Harry chuckles, reaching across the countertop to grab onto the hood of Louis’ jacket, pulling him back.  “What’s your good news?”

Louis ducks his head, chin hitting his chest as he eyes his soggy feet, the laces untied and strayed due to the damp, the fabric around his soles sodden.  “It’s not really very important,” He stutters, voice quiet as his cheeks flush a deep shade of red, hiding within himself at his immaturity; it’s only a job, not really exciting for normal people.

“Lou, c’mon,” Harry tries, reaching into one of the glass cabinets and pulling out a pastry, waggling it under Louis’ nose with a smirk when Louis’ attention is stripped away from his waterlogged footwear and up to the sweet smelling delicacy.

He reaches for the pastry, the flakes hitting the tips of his fingers as he tries to get it, but Harry’s too tall, pulling it straight out of his grasp and above his head, the flakes fluttering down onto the countertop. 

“You can have it,” Louis grins, hopping up a little before Harry’s lifting it higher in the air.  “But only if you tell me your news,” Harry smirks and Louis frowns, huffing, as he plays with the zip of his jacket, sticking his nails between the teeth of it.

“I got a job,” He whispers, ducking his eyes again as he feels the stretch of Harry’s grin stretch his own lips, causing him a slight numbing pain in his cheek. 

“You got a job?” Harry sounds impressed as he leans over the counter, tugging Louis towards it and hugging him tightly around the shoulders before his hands travel down to his waist, holding him closely as he breaths him in.  “So proud of you, Lou.”

Louis smiles into the shoulder of Harry’s t-shirt, nibbling playfully at the material before Harry’s pushing him away with a wild laugh and a childish look in his eyes.  “So where are you working now then?” Harry asks as he leans his forearms back onto the countertop by Niall’s pastry as he hands Louis his own.

Louis smiles in thanks, nibbling at the pastry as the flakes start to hide in the creases of his shirt but he can’t be bothered to wipe them away when Harry’s got his eyes so wide and shiny and happy, purely for his benefit.

“Well I haven’t got the job yet, I’ve been offered an interview.” Harry fist pumps regardless and Louis carries on with a grin when Harry gestures for him to continue before he ducks his head, feeling his face burn as he says the words that forced him to sprint over here in the clothes that he slept on his sofa in.  “At ‘Toys r Us’.” 

Louis doesn’t have time to be embarrassed, however, because he’s instantly being bundled up into a hug by his giant of a friend, smiling despite his reservations as Harry tells him how proud he is of him, how they’ll _have_ to go out to celebrate, changing his words when he feels the stone cold fear rattle itself down Louis’ limbs and instead saying how he and Zayn will take him out for a meal in congratulations.

“You don’t have to take me out,” Louis argues, untangling Harry’s limbs off of his body as  he tries to stand up straight, not having Harry’s lanky body wrapped around him.  “I might not even get it yet.”

“Oh shut up,” Harry puffs out, rolling his eyes at his small friend.  “You’ve got it in the bag, Lou!”

“You do, Lou,” Niall whispers from beside them as he wraps up his rubbish, popping it in the bin by the counter as he finishes the final bite of his pastry, licking at his fingers to get rid of the sticky taste of butter that’s trapped in his pores.  “Honestly.”

Louis just stares, cheeks flushed before he drops his head, smile trapped in place on his face as he eyes Niall from underneath his eyelashes, biting at his lower lip.  “Thanks, Niall.”

Said blonde smiles, dismissing the comment before he’s walking out of the shop having said his goodbye’s, pulling his jacket tight around his torso as he walks through the gripping wind, back to work no doubt, Louis thinks, eyeing the clock on the wall behind Harry.

“See,” The curly haired boy smiles, eyes wandering to follow Niall as he walks down the street until he becomes nothing but a memory on the pavement and Harry’s shiny eyes are back on Louis, giving him his full attention.  “Even Nialler agrees that you’ve got it in the bag, so don’t look so worried, yeah?”

Harry reaches across the counter to rub his fingers over Louis’ forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles he didn’t even know had crumpled up within his skin as Louis tries to get his face in order and force his cheeks to stop flushing.

“Trying,” Louis squeaks as he wipes his hands down his face, feeling himself stress over something normal for what feels like months.  “What are you supposed to say for an interview, again?”

It’s not even intended as a joke, more an honest question on Louis’ part; he can’t remember how people actually act, really.  The amount of TV programmes that he’s forced himself to watch - to stop himself from clawing out his eyeballs as he watches life go on around him - has made him fall into naughty habits, not feeling quite like he’s living his own life, but is instead stealing those of people off of the small screen in his living room.

“You know what to do, Louis,” Harry grins, reaching over the counter to knock his fist into Louis’ shoulder playfully.  “Just got to be yourself, haven’t you; but with a greater air of wanting to work.”

Louis punches at Harry, rolling his eyes at his friend as said curly haired boy just laughs, waving after Louis when he exits the shop and walks down the street, shoes squelching with every step he takes.

His eyes are on his shoes as he walks down the street, staring intrigued down at his shoes as the material seems to seep water as he moves his feet with each step, yet soak it back up instantly the moment he removes his weight from it.  He grins before lifting his head, nose knocking into a body as he does so.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles, hand over his nose as he holds it, eyes stinging with a slight burning sensation, tears wanting to trickle down his cheeks, when really; he’s been in worse physically painful situations.  “I didn’t mean too,”

“I am too,” The Irish accent hits him like a ton of bricks, making his eyes pop out of their sockets as they travel up the short distance that it takes to reach Niall’s face from his chest.

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	79. Escape to pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another one of those seemingly rare chapters that I'm proud of:)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to the best cheerleader in the world, MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh, who I don't feel I give as much credit to as is due. I love you, babe<3

Niall’s lips are tipped in what Louis can only describe as a not quite smile, as he looks down upon him, his hair being whipped in all directions by the torrent of wind that has decided to pick up around them, freezing their flesh to their bones.

Louis chokes on his words, trying to splutter them through his chapped lips unsuccessfully as Niall’s eyes stay trained on him, worry evident in his eyes as Louis’ hand reaches up once again to hold his nose.  “Are you okay?”

The smaller boy nods, dropping his eyes as he tries to hide the blush that’s teetering up his neck to his cheeks, pasting them in a fiery hot blush as Niall bites at his lip, soothing his tongue over it.

Louis’ blood runs cold.  He can’t do this.

He darts around the blonde quickly, feet hammering against the pavement once again as he runs, ears absent of the ability to pick up Niall’s concerned shouts as he rounds street corners, dodging old ladies and scattering school children that are filing from the school gates on their lunch break.

His jacket is yanked off of his body, down his arms and uncurled from between his fingers as they try to nab it back at the last second, but it’s no use as it’s ripped off of his back and out into the wind, swirling around in the blasts of chill that are causing Louis’ jaw to set into a hard line.

He runs, arms frozen and his stomach chilled by the gusts of unforgiving wind as they drive themselves up his shirt and tease at his skin, making him hiss but keep running, never wanting to stop.

He can’t stop.

The grey tarmac all blends into one patch of solid matter under his feet, the buildings that are teetering high above him and lining his path mixing into a mass of red brick and mortar that holds no substance within his mind.

He feels the concrete before he sees it, ramming his knees down into the gritty surface, splaying his broken skin over his knees, stones and such almost leaping into his wounds just to make the sting that little bit sharper, that little bit more real.

He doesn’t feel the grazes on his palms until he lifts his hands to wipe at his knees, wincing as he has to pull the threads of his joggers out of the littering of fresh wounds driven deep into his skin as his hands shake, not only due to his exhaustion, but the slices that have been cut out of them.

Blood starts to trickle down his wrists as he holds them in front of his face, the crimson orbs rolling down his skin and creating a map of what’s inside, as if tracing his veins and following their path down his arms.

He stares, fascinated by the blood before he sees the blue and white plastic whip in the wind, contorting itself around the bin that it’s tied to, the handle of it snagged in a punishing grip by the tape.

He doesn’t even need to see the letters that follow the P and the O that haven’t been ripped by the weather, knows what they were when they were emblazoned over the plastic, could more or less tell you the exact spacing between each letter, he’s looked at it that much.

He swallows as he leans back against the wall, noticing the broken light that’s strung high above his head, the bulb flickering as if it’s still clinging to the finalities of it’s life, the same as it had all those weeks ago when Louis had refused to close his eyes, wanting to keep them open so that he’s be able to keep his dreams sacred and safe, unlike reality.

His eyes are set on the light, head leant back as he presses it into the sharp edges of the brick behind him, feeling the spikes of them dig into him once again, knowing where each one of them stabbed into his flesh the last time his skin had been gouged onto them.

His eyes stay focused on the industry-grade bulb that’s hanging high above him as the wind whips down the alleyway, blowing rubbish from the bin at him, crisp packets getting caught around his ankles and Coke cans rattling past noisily. 

Coke.

He sobs as he think of Niall, how nice he’d been, how he hadn’t known, but he’d known.  He knew what to do; bringing pasta over with a staff discount, making a foam moustache to make Louis smile, accepting Louis’ apology when he really didn’t deserve to let Louis off the hook that easily.

He’d known what to do.

Louis wishes he knew what to do.

He blinks back tears as the light above him flickers for the last time, dying inside of the outer casing as it swings precariously in the wind, rattling around.  His mouth twists into a crumpled line as it doesn’t turn back on, giving up the ghost as its filament goes from a brilliantly glowing orange to a cold white.

He scolds himself, blubbering at a light bulb blowing, but can’t help it, forcing his head back against the wall once again, pushing hard against it.  He needs this.  Needs to feel again, to find something better than what he already has, what he’s already seen.

He needs to be like the bulb; he needs to move on.

“Lou?”

He keeps his head pressed against the edges of the bricks, feeling them start to puncture his skin, blood no doubt matting his hair as his blue eyes try to see through the tears he refuses to shed, spotting Niall in the entrance to the alley way.

“Go away,” He croaks, removing his head from the force of the bricks, as he pulls his legs up to his chest, his knees throbbing as they’re rubbed raw by what remains of his joggers as he moves, palms screaming as he pulls his legs up.  “Just go away.”

Niall’s dropped down next to him before Louis can even argue it further, fingers light as they trace over the backs of Louis’ hands, slowly peeling them from where they’re clenched as he examines them, frowning down at the slashes that litter the skin.  “Let me help you, yeah?”

Louis shakes his head, ducking it so that his teary eyes are hidden behind his messy fringe; not having the energy to pull his hand away from Niall’s when his fingers are dancing across his skin like he deserves some sort of comfort and kindness.

“Why won’t you let me help you, Lou?” Niall asks, crouched down on the floor next to Louis before he’s dropping himself on his bum, head pressed back against the wall like Louis’, as his shoulder knocks with Louis’, friendly.

Louis just shakes his head, looking out at the streetlight at the end of the alleyway, the bulb lying vacant in the casing due to the time of day, but still glaring at it anyway.

“Can I see your knees?” Louis startles as Niall’s voice is so calm, his eyes looking out into the distance also, as Louis looks across at him before shaking his head softly, feeling the burn of his skin as it tries to piece itself back together again.

Louis lowers his eyes to his legs, seeing the blood start to spread across the fabric as time passes, littering it with the red substance before he’s pulling them up, watching the way his blood builds up on the surface of his cuts before winding down his legs as gravity defeats it.

Niall’s hands are on his legs in seconds, pressing the sleeve of his hoodie onto the wounds to try and stop the blood, Louis guesses, as he just leans back against the wall, hissing at the contact when it becomes a little too much.  “It’s helping, Lou, honest.”

Louis nods his head, gritting his teeth as Niall continues to keep the pressure on his knees, drying the blood with the fabric so painstakingly carefully that Louis reaches over to hang onto the pocket of Niall’s hoodie, ducking his hand inside with a smile.

“What’cha doing, Lou?” Niall chuckles when Louis’ whole hand slides into the pocket, making Niall’s hoodie sag to one side.  Louis shrugs, smiling as he does, his fingers coming to sit around Niall’s phone, tapping absentmindedly against the metal back.  “You want to play with it whilst I clean you up?”

Louis shakes his head, removing his hand from Niall’s pocket as he watches Niall work on his knees, wiping off the dirt that he can whilst they’re in the alley.  “Nah, I want to go home.” Louis whispers when Niall removes his hoodie sleeve, deeming the wound as clean as possible as he smiles at Louis.

“You do?” Louis nods, closing his eyes as he leans back against the wall, willing his strength to come up to the surface.  “You want some help up?”

Niall’s hand is wrapped around his own before he can even process the question, being hoisted up carefully as Louis begins to hiss as he bends his knees to stand.  “You’re okay, we can go slowly,” Niall assures as he holds Louis around the waist, helping him walk out of the alley.

He stops just as they reach the end, unravelling something from around his waist before he wraps it around Louis’ torso, up and over his arms before zipping it up at the front.  “I found it on my way here,” He smiles as he takes Louis back into his hold, steps patient as Louis tries to get his legs to move and his heartbeat to stop thrumming in his ears.

Louis nods, eyes looking directly in front of himself as he’s carried out of the alley for the second time, desperately hoping there’s never a third.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, I'd love to hear from you<3 Don't be Silent Readers<3


	80. Let me fix you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've used the word 'wound' far too much lately...
> 
> Chapter credit goes to the one that I cannot say 'i love you' to enough, MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh<3

When Louis’ eyes focus they don’t fall on his shabby front door, instead landing on the grain of what must be Niall’s, as he pushes his key into the lock, twisting it effortlessly as he helps Louis stay upright.

Louis’ tan cheeks are frozen from the tears that had trickled down his cheeks on the way, the wind freezing them to his cheekbones as he hobbled through the streets of London, eyes wandering yet not watching as he ducked himself into Niall’s side, fists white as he held onto the pocket of Niall’s jacket.

“Would you like something to drink?” Niall asks as he lowers Louis carefully down onto, what Louis guesses is, his sofa when his eyes fall to the unsigned Derby shirt folded within a frame across the room on the far wall.

“Yes please,” Louis croaks, eyes walking themselves around the small room, watching as Niall slips himself into the hallway and wanders down it to what Louis can only guess is the kitchen when he hears the clattering of glasses and the squeak of water pipes under his feet.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Louis whispers when Niall hands him a glass of water as he comes back into the room, condensation trickling down the glass and over his cold skin, making him bite at his lower lip uncomfortably.

“Probably,” Niall shrugs, pulling his phone out of his pocket to look at the time before he’s typing away on it quickly.  He smiles as he looks up into Louis’ eyes, re-pocketing his phone as he sits down on the sofa next to Louis.  “But now I don’t,” Louis’ eyebrows crease in confusion.  “Greg will have to cover me; he still owes me that favour.”

Louis nods, understanding what Niall’s talking about as he watches the blonde boy take a sip of his drink, pursing his lips when the cold liquid hits his teeth.  “It’s rather cold,” Louis whispers, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he speaks.

“No kidding,” Niall chuckles as he swallows, pushing his drink away from him as he slides it onto the table before turning to Louis with a kind smile.  “Do your knees hurt?”

Louis looks down at them; his eyes clear from the previously unshed tears that had been clouding them so that he can now see the true extent of gashes that are littering his flesh, the amount of blood that hasn’t been wiped from them by Niall’s sleeve.

He looks across at the blonde boy, pulling his sleeve down his arm to examine the red that’s soaked into the fibres with a scowl, before Niall’s pulling it away.  “It’s fine,” He whispers before he starts to inch his hand out to touch at Louis’ jogging bottom covered thigh.  “Is this okay?”

Louis nods, just watching Niall as he slides off of his sofa and down onto the floor to pull the leg of Louis’ joggers up to his thighs, holding the material away from his cuts as he does so, sighing, a frown on his pink lips.

“I need to get the first aid kit,” Niall explains, peeling his eyes of off Louis’ wrecked flesh and up to his eyes, his fingers stroking over Louis’ left ankle subconsciously.  “Just let me grab it from the kitchen.”

Louis shakes his head, reaching his hand out to Niall’s shoulder, fingers playing with the ends of his hair that brush over the nape of his neck.  “It’ll get infected if I don’t, Lou.”  Niall reasons, leaning back on his haunches so that Louis’ hand is still in his hair but he’s not breathing hot breaths onto Louis’ open wounds, noting how they make him wince with every one of Niall’s exhales.

“Don’t care,” Louis huffs, closing his eyes and pressing his head back against the back of the sofa, oblivious to the fact that Niall’s fingers are ghosting up his arms, over the bones of his wrists and to his hands as he pulls them down to inspect Louis’ grazes on his palms.

“I need to do it, Lou,” Niall whispers, rubbing soothing circles into Louis’ wrists as said boy bites at his lower lip, nearly piercing it with the force of his teeth at the feel of Niall’s hands being so close to his slashes.

Niall’s up onto his feet the moment Louis sighs out the _okay_ he had been hunting for, rushing off into the kitchen and coming back instantly with the first aid kit, whipping out antiseptic wipes and bandages before he’s even positioned himself back on the floor by Louis’ legs, like a small blonde puppy.  Louis smiles at the idea.

“This is going to sting, okay,” Niall whispers, eyes meeting Louis’ as he poises his hand over the injuries that are taking up the flesh of Louis’ knees, reaching his left hand up towards Louis’.  “Squeeze if you need to, okay?”

He grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes as tight as he can get them as he tenses up, the antiseptic wipes peeling the bacteria from his wounds and causing his wounds to throb as he clenches at Niall’s larger wrist, fingers digging in, but Niall makes no sounds of discomfort.  “You’re okay, Lou.  Just a little more, okay?  Then we’ll put the bandages on and it’ll be fine.”

Louis nods, not trusting his voice as he just listens to his slight hissings that he’s unable to stop from sliding between his teeth and into the open of Niall’s flat.

The bandages are being wrapped around his knees before he knows it, his injuries still stinging a bit as the bacteria are killed by the cream that Niall had slipped onto the bandages.  “Okay?” Niall asks as he fastens the final bandage in place, rubbing the same soothing circles into Louis’ ankle as he had before.

“Yeah,” Louis whispers, skin feeling as if it’s been pulled taut by the hold of the plasters around his knees.  “Now get up, yeah?”

Niall chuckles, lifting himself up off of the floor with a smile as Louis leans back against the back of the sofa, smiling despite himself when Niall’s fingers come to draw patterns into his wrists.  “You know I have to do your hands as well, don’t you?”

Louis frowns, sighing as he peeks an eye open to watch the smile on Niall’s lips stretches impeccably wide when Louis shakes his head, turning on his side so that he’s away from Niall, eyes falling closed as he whispers a _no_ into the air like an obstinate child, Niall just awards him with a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	81. Chapter 81

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is what 100,000 words looks like, huh? It's pretty strange, I never expected to post anything this long!
> 
> For those of you that are reading this at the time it was posted and have spied that there is 81 chapters instead of 80, the reason for that is because I am the worst person in the world and I posted the wrong chapters when I was uploading! The chapter which no one you have read yet (lets call it a secret chapter, especially for you guys that have hit the 100,000 word count mark with me - not like I forgot it or anything like that...) is chapter 43. I hope you like it:)
> 
> Feel free to shout and scream at me as much as you like - I'm doing the same at the minute!

Louis’ hands feel as tightly bound as his knees when his eyelids flutter open, his brain whirling back to life within his skull as he pulls his face out of the centre cushions of Niall’s sofa, blinking softly as the TV plays out in front of his eyes across the room. 

He pushes himself up off of the sofa, feeling the creases from the material litter his face but not caring enough to do anything to hide it when Niall’s leaning over him, looking into his eyes with a smile.  “Welcome back to consciousness, Lou.”

Louis huffs out a sound of distaste as his tongue feels heavy in his mouth, making him frown at the sourness of it.  His hair gets tangled between his fingers as he runs them through it, trying to slip the sleep out of his bones as he slowly stretches, bones clicking and cracking as he moves.

His knuckles crack as he moves, making him wince at the sound as he blinks his eyes open slowly, taking in the room that’s surrounding him; the white walls littered with photos and trinkets, the occasional concert ticket tacked around an image that looks, to Louis’ tired eyes, as if it was taken at the concert the ticket corresponds to.

He smiles, seeing the bits of Niall’s life he had yet to learn, other than the fact he likes more or less every food, except for Vegemite.

“Did you want to change the channel?” Niall asks, passing the remote off of his lap towards Louis with a smile and it’s then that Louis notices how he’s squinting in the general direction of the pixels and that it could be mistaken for frowning at the programme, not his lack of sight as he tries to read each of Niall’s concert tickets.

“Nah,” Louis whispers, turning his eyes onto Niall as he watches him with a dopey expression that makes Louis feel all warm inside.  “I was looking at your tickets,” He points across the room to direct Niall to what he means, as if he doesn’t already know that they’re stuck there.

“Oh, yeah,” Niall grins, lifting himself from the sofa and Louis takes that as an invitation to follow; he graciously accepts, trailing behind Niall until they’re up at the far wall, looking over it.  “I keep them all, a kind of diary, if you’d like,”

Niall’s blushing lightly in the light that the TV gives off but Louis doesn’t understand why, it’s not as if it’s an embarrassing thing to do, trying to keep your memories around you.

Louis looks over the items more closely, pupils wandering over the vast collection.  “You’ve seen JLS?” Niall nods, cheeks still lathered in a splattering of red that makes something plummet in Louis’ stomach.  “Wow, man!”  Louis grins, reaching out to trace over the ticket and eye the date.  “And you went to the last one!”

“Yeah,” Niall smiles, eyes focused on the small piece of paper as he speaks, a glossy look in his eyes as if he’s remembering the day it happened, no doubt bouncing along with the music as they played for the last time together.  “It was good, like really good.  I didn’t expect them to split up, y’know?”

Louis nods, even he’d been shocked when he heard that they were splitting up though he’s not really thought that much about it until seeing Niall’s concert ticket stuck around the image of the four boys smiling out at the crowd.  “You were pretty close to the front as well.”

Niall grins.  “Yeah, Liam and Zayn bought the ticket for my birthday, I don’t even think they knew what seat that they’d bought, to be honest!  They were shocked when I said where I was sitting.”

They move around the room, inching around the perimeter as Niall tells stories about the images on the walls, the trinkets that’re around them and the family photos that are lining the majority of his surfaces.

“This one is from my first Derby game,” He grins as he repositions of the photo on the table, making it stand straight as he smiles down at it.  “My dad took me when I was seven, it was my first ever football game and the Rams just stuck with me.” 

Louis smiles at the young boy trapped within the ink of the photo, the crooked smile preserved despite all of the long years where it’s changed and developed into the one that Niall wears today.

“This is when I met Brooke Vincent,” Louis eyes the photo on the wall, the images of Zayn and Liam doing the same as he is, as they hug the brunette individually.  “We met her when Zayn dragged us to an art gallery in Manchester; it was a pretty good day.”

Louis smiles as Niall grins, dragging him around the room to show him the rest of the trinkets and items he’s got hanging around the room, delivering stories that do nothing but interest Louis as Niall speaks, accent growing heavier the more excited he gets.

“You’ve done a lot,” Louis says, eyes skimming back over all of the items and images that Niall’s just described, letting him in on the small bits of his life that Louis would feel intrusive knowing if Niall hadn’t voluntarily offered them up for his ears to hear.

“I guess I have,” Niall cocks his head to the side to watch Louis as he speaks, smiling as if he’s never smiled before in his life and has just learnt how to.  “Haven’t really done a lot recently though,” He sighs.  “Not really had anything that I’ve really wanted to do.”

Louis frowns; surely Niall has something that he still wants to do and complete in his life.  “So you’ve got nothing else you want to do?” Niall shakes his head as Louis thinks, brain ticking in his skull as he tries to think of something, anything, voicing the first thing that pops into his head.  “Paintballing?”

“Paintballing?” Niall asks, eyes glowing in the low light of his living room since neither boy made a move to turn on the main light as they wandered around the perimeter looking at the memories that scatter Niall’s living room.

“Yeah,” Louis says, picking at his nails, self-conscious due to the fact that Niall’s looking at him with a broad smile that looks like a joke wants to slip from between it.  “Only if you want to, though.”

“Of course I want to,” Niall chuckles, reaching out to squeeze at Louis’ shoulders, his hands large as they wrap themselves over his shoulders, forcing Louis to accept the fact that he’s physically smaller than he once was.  “Paintballing sounds epic!” Louis grins, looking up into Niall’s eyes and spying the excitement that’s dancing in them already.

“So we’ll go paintballing,” Louis grins, reaching into his pocket to look for his phone to check his calendar before his eyes notice the time, cursing when he sees it’s gone half eleven.  “It’s getting late,” He hands hurt as he tries to pocket his phone, clutching at it as loosely as possible so that it doesn’t make his hands ache anymore than they already do. 

Niall’s looking down at him as he looks up, Louis ducking his head when Niall doesn’t look away, instead keeps his eyes on his shoes as he tries to work out the words to say.  “I guess I should get off home,”

“You could stay here,” Niall supplies when he looks out the window of his apartment, the rain coming in bucket loads down the glass of his windows, the wind rattling the windows in their panes as it billows past.  “It’s chucking it down.”

Louis shakes his head, blush on his cheeks as the memories of how the last time he’d been with Niall late at night had lead to rosy cheeks, a hammering heart and kiss-raw lips.“I should probably go home,”

Niall shakes his head at the smaller boy, stepping across the room to lean against his front door.  “Nope, I’m keeping you hostage,” Niall grins, twinkle in his eyes like a devilish child as Louis watches the smirk flutter up onto his lips.  “There is no way that I’m letting you out of this flat in the rain for one thing, plus you’re not dressed to go out in it anyway, and finally, you can barely walk,”

Louis looks down at his legs, noting how they’re cocked to one side so that not too much weight is on them, whilst his right hand is pressed against the back of Niall’s sofa to help him stand up right; maybe Niall’s right.

“I’m fine,” Louis argues half-heartedly - as much as he doesn’t want to stay here when he acted as he did the other night, he doesn’t fancy soaking himself to the bone out in the rain and the wind.

“Lou,” Niall’s voice is like that of his mother’s when he argues with her, it has the undertones of someone who knows best and will make you agree, even if it’s the last thing you ever do. 

It makes his chest hurt; he hasn’t seen his mum in what feels like years. 

“You’re staying, okay?” Niall pulls himself off of the wood of his door so that he’s leant against the wall instead.  “There is no way that you’re going out in that, especially at this time of night.”

Louis nods, a chill running down his spine at the fact that Niall has some idea of the sort of things that go on outside of his door at the late hours of the day, the early hours of the mornings; he doesn’t deserve to be trapped within their boundaries, he deserves to be as free as a bird.

“Okay, but on one condition, I take the sofa,” Louis says as he kicks off his shoes by the door, tucking them by those that are already sat there as he heads down the hallway, pressing his knuckles to each of the doors that he passes so that he can peek inside, hunting down Niall’s bathroom.

“Final door on the left,” Niall calls helpfully down the hallway as Louis gets frustrated with pushing doors open and just being met with the kitchen, a cupboard, another cupboard and the coat room.

Louis smiles, sitting himself down onto the toilet when he gets inside and watching his reflection in the mirror; how the black bags that had hung under his eyes have faded, the bruises that had been pressed into his flesh have sunk down into his bloodstream, leaving his skin clear and how his smile is starting to fit his face again.

He watches how his cheekbones have started to protrude from underneath his skin, making him look almost hollow where he never once was.  The way the light above him casts shadows across his skin and makes him look older, as if he’s aged ten years in the space of a little over a month, tiny crow’s feet seemingly appearing out of nowhere to litter around his eyes. 

He pouts when they’re swallowed deeper down into his face as he smiles at himself in the glass of the mirror, even when he pokes at them, hoping to stretch them out of his skin, failing as he just starts to look like Joan Collins.  He sighs.

The mirror also displays to him just how much his collarbones catch the light, creating shadows across his chest as they tent out of his skin.  He kind of likes that though, the fact he can rest his chin on them – he’s a child at heart.

“There should be a spare toothbrush under the sink,” Niall calls through the door startling Louis from playing with his newly protruding bones and making him go hunting, grinning when he finds the final one in the packet that Niall’s talking about, a pink one no less.

“Good job I’m not ashamed to use a pink toothbrush,” He calls through the door, earning himself a wild laugh from the other side of it as Niall makes his way down the hallway, Louis smiling despite himself as he cleans his teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	82. Let's share (what's mine is yours)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's days like today when you realise that yeah, you're probably not a very nice person to be around
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to Sela_1D

When Louis slips back out of Niall’s bathroom, he’s met with a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist, lifting him high into the air and down onto what he can only hope is Niall’s shoulder when he spies the flash of blonde that zips past his eyes.

“Niall!” He chuckles when said boy’s fingers tighten around his waist, crawling up his sides and making Louis laugh at the tickling sensation.  “Put me down!”

He doesn’t receive any response, other than laughter from Niall which makes him smile before he’s being dropped down onto a bed that smells suspiciously like Niall.  “You’re sleeping here,” Niall smiles as he rips the duvet out from underneath Louis’ body and tucks it over the brunette.

Louis crawls himself up out from under the duvet where it’s laid over his face, eyes squinting as they look across at Niall, who’s grinning like the Cheshire cat above him whilst Louis rolls his eyes.  “I’m sleeping on the sofa,”

Niall shakes his head; lips perched up into a smile that looks as if it will never fall from his face as he watches Louis with an amused expression.  “No, you’re sleeping there, Lou.”  He steps around the bed to drag a t-shirt and some joggers out of one of the cupboards on the other side of the room, setting them on the end of the bed near Louis’ feet.  “Honestly, you’re sleeping there.”

Louis shakes his head, pulling the duvet off of his body as he works his way down the bed, mattress dipping as he crawls along the length of it to face Niall.  “I’m not sleeping in your bed when you should be,” Louis reasons as he reaches for the clothes, fingering the fibres, feeling their softness along his skin.

“I don’t want to be,” Niall says.  “I’d rather you were; plus, my sofa’s comfy - that’s why I bought it.”  He grins as he walks around the room, grabbing a blanket out of a cupboard before he’s edging closer to the bedroom door, leaning back against the frame as he watches Louis on the bed.  “You want the light on or off?”

Louis frowns, realising that Niall’s not going to let him win - he can’t decide if he likes that or not.  “Off please?”  He whispers as he sits back on his haunches, Niall’s clothes in his lap as he watches said boy exit the room with a smile.

“Okay,” The light shuts off, leaving the room in darkness, the only light creeping into the room that from the bulb in the hallway that’s casting a backlight against Niall’s silhouette.  “I’ll see you in the morning.  Night, Lou.”

The door clicks shut then, a slight glow slipping underneath the door from the hall as Louis slips off his own clothes, toes getting caught in the knees of his jeans as he tries to get them off before he’s slipping on Niall’s, the waist band sitting snugly around his newly narrowed waist whilst the t-shirt hangs off of his small frame.

The sound of the TV in Niall’s living room quickly drops to silence as the springs in the sofa creak as Niall drops himself down onto it, the flat falling as silent as the air outside of the building as the world rests for another day of mayhem.

Louis sits up in Niall’s bed the whole time he’s perched upon it, just watching the LED numbers of Niall’s clock tick by around him, the occasional _vroom_ of a car speeding past the building through the window that Louis cracked open, feeling the room become too hot around him without it.

Niall’s sheet are soft and unfamiliar as they twist around his legs as he tucks them under it, feeling the breeze start to bite at his skin as the night slowly disappears, the occasional creak of the sofa keeping him awake as Niall struggles to get comfy, no doubt.

Louis bites at his lip, not knowing quite what to do with himself as Niall twists in the dead of night, little huffs of breath carrying through the apartment and into Louis’ hypersensitive ears as he clutches at the fibres of Niall’s duvet.

“Niall, c’mon,” He doesn’t even know he’s spoken, let alone moved from Niall’s bed and into the living room until Niall’s sleepy eyes are meeting his own and reminding him of a small child that’s been pulled from sleep to get ready for school.

Niall rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand as he twists himself on the sofa, feet sticking over the end as he uses his arm as a pillow.  Louis frowns at the blonde as his knuckles crack as he moves, his neck bent at an angle that makes Louis’ own start to ache; so much for a comfy sofa.

“Lou?” Louis nods, reaching his hand out to Niall’s arm, pulling him up probably faster than he should as Niall looks all doe eyed as he moves, head cocked to the side as he wipes the sleep from his eyes.  “What’re you doing?”

They’re in Niall’s bedroom before even Louis can realise it, stumbling over the clothes that Louis dropped there earlier as Louis slides Niall into the bed, draping the duvet of his sleepy form before he’s slipping into the other side of the bed, wrapping the duvet around his own body as sleep finally takes him hostage, Niall’s even breathing the lullaby he needed in his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, feel free to let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	83. Better mornings, better days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? That Nick Grimshaw/ James Corden snog on the BRITs was the best thing I've ever seen, like ever.
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to Sela_1D

His eyes start to flutter open as the birds, which are a permanent fixture in the tree outside of his apartment, start to tweet and chirp, calling out for the sun to climb its way back up the sky and knock the moon off of its podium.

The sun however, doesn’t come, as Niall’s eyes start to focus in the darkness of his room, the backlight from the moon falling through his window and over the clothes that are scattered by the side of the bed.

He sighs, twisting his head to look at the clock on his bedside table, the LED’s implanting 6:00 into the backs of his eyes, making him blink rapidly to try and wipe them away from his sight.

He drops his head back into his pillow as he does so, knowing he doesn’t have to be up until at least 7 because of his shift at the supermarket and grins dopily into his bed sheets as he pulls his duvet up higher to shield his arms from the breeze that’s drifting in through the open window.

The open window?

He lifts his head, looking out across the room to spy the curtains dancing lightly in the breeze from where the window’s cracked open at the top, and cocks his head; he didn’t open the window.

A gentle noise sounds from his other side, hot air ghosting over his hand, where his fourth finger meets his knuckle as his attention flicks from the open window to the other side of his bed, where a mess of brunette is sticking out from under the duvet, splayed against the white of the pillow behind his head as he uses his tan arm as a pillow instead.

Louis.

Niall grins down at the boy; the tired little noises that he’s making as he twitches lightly in his sleep, fingers occasionally stroking over the duvet as they curl up into his palm before repeating the gesture.

Louis’ breath is hot as it drifts over his skin, wiping away the fact his arm had, just moments before, been attacked by the chill that hangs in the winter air outside of the apartment. 

It’s a nice heat that makes something twist in the pit of Niall’s stomach as Louis rolls slightly, making Niall’s hand fall slightly off of its perch on Louis’ shoulder to lay against his chest, fingertips brushing the arm that Louis is using as his pillow.

Louis’ skin is soft against Niall’s fingertips as they breathe, breaking up the silence that sleep forced them into; Louis’ chest rising and falling so rhythmically that it makes the musician in Niall climb up to the surface, his other hand tapping a back beat into Louis’ spine to blend in with his breathing.

Niall smiles when Louis folds himself up into a ball by his side, Louis’ feet touching Niall’s shins as he moves subconsciously, huffing out little sounds that seem as though they want to fall into Niall’s melody as they enter the air, falling in perfect harmony with the sounds that Niall’s creating against his back.

Niall tries to hold his breath as he taps his rhythm out against Louis’ spine, trying not to interrupt the harmony that’s taking place within his bedroom as the time ticks on and the sun fails to rise in the sky, as if it’s enjoying the performance as much as Niall is and doesn’t want it to end.

Before Niall knows it, Louis is twisting deeper in his sleep, pushing himself up against Niall’s front as he ducks his face into his arm, puffing out a breath so sleepily that if his heartbeat hadn’t have changed, Niall might have thought he was just dreaming.

“Morning, Lou,” Niall rasps, slowing down his tapping on Louis’ spine to correspond with the change in his breathing as the smaller of the two makes frustrated noises, stretching the sleep from his body as he contorts under the duvet.

Louis blinks bleary-eyed up at Niall, his eyes soft and bright as the sun starts to rise in the sky, Niall’s audience drifting up to perch itself high up, blasting a golden stream of light through the wintery clouds. 

“Mornin’,” Louis’ voice is rough and gritty as he wipes his hand over his face, cheek having wrinkles pressed into its surface due to how he had been laid.  “What time is it?”

Niall makes to roll over to look, but his arm is still caught over Louis’ shoulder, fingertips playing with the dip of his collarbone where his shirt has slipped off of his shoulder.  “Not quite 7,” Niall whispers, as if it’s a secret, though he knows it’s because Louis still has that slow look in his eyes that tells Niall he’s not quite awake yet.

Louis nods, taking in the information as he keeps his head laid on his arm, a gentle smile on his lips as he watches Niall, eyes big as they look across the sheets at the blonde, who’s grinning lazily too. 

“So, I should probably get up,” Louis seems to say this as if he’s testing himself, as if he can guilt trip himself out of bed; it doesn’t seem to be working if the way he closes his eyes back up, sealing the bright blue back off from the world again as he twists in the duvet, pulling it off of Niall’s body.

“Hey, give it back,” Niall whines, reaching out with grabby hands to retrieve some of the blanket back to shield himself from the chill that’s still seeping into the room to nip at his skin.  “It’s cold!”

Louis laughs, voice slow as his chuckles drip over Niall’s ears, making him grin despite himself as he re-bundles himself back up in the warmth of his bed, reaching his hand out to tap at Louis’ spine again.

“What’re you doing?” Louis whispers, turning his head and peeping an eye open to watch Niall from over his shoulder, the way his fingertips as drumming soothing rhythms into the bottom of his spine.

Niall’s rhythm falters but soon picks back up as he catches Louis’ eye, grinning at the smaller boy.  “I don’t really know, making music I guess,” Niall’s fingers slow as he looks deeper into Louis’ eyes.  “Is that okay?  I can stop if you want me to.”

Louis shakes his head, turning back round so he’s laid out comfortably over his side of the bed.  “No, carry on, it’s comforting.” He yawns into his hand as he closes his eyes, letting Niall drum the melodies into his skin, focusing his ears on the tap of Niall’s fingers along his skin, both feeling and hearing the change in rhythms and speeds as Niall goes on.

“I recognise that one,” Louis mumbles into his arm as Niall’s fingers dance the familiar song along his back, making Louis hum out the words that match the music.

“Yeah?” Niall asks, continuing to play along Louis’ skin as he watches the sun start to get lost in the clouds again, flicking his eyes over to the clock to spy that he might be late for work if he doesn’t get going soon.  “You like the Plain White Tees?”

Louis nods, hair knotted and messy against his skull as he feels the beats, the lyrics on the tip of his tongue as he flutters his eyes half open.  “Yeah, my sister used to be obsessed with them; they were all I ever heard for like three months.”

Niall laughs, the sound comforting and familiar to Louis’ ears as he starts to fidget on the bed, Niall’s song coming to an end as he starts twisting himself back round to look at Niall.  “So, I should probably get up now,” 

Niall nods, stretching back against the headboard as he tries to will himself to follow Louis’ initiative and get up himself.  “Yeah, me to.  I might be late for work if I don’t get a move on,” Louis’ eyes wander to the clock on the bedside table, squinting at it through the morning light before looking up at Niall.

“Why didn’t you get up then?” Louis wonders aloud as he pulls Niall’s clothes off of his body, both boys turned away from one another as they change into their respective clothes for the day; Louis’ the same ones he came in, before Niall throws him some new ones from his wardrobe with a smile.

“I had more reasons to stay than I did to leave.” Niall says, turning towards the bedroom door and heading down the hallway, leaving Louis’ heart throbbing in his chest as he works Niall’s clothes up and over his limbs, taking in the blonde boy’s scent with every move of his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	84. Chapter 84

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've rather missed Zarry, as much as I adore Nouis, I find Zarry so much fun to write:)

Harry grins down at his phone as he and Zayn walk towards their respective workplaces, footsteps subconsciously slowing as they near the corner of the road where they have to split.

“What’re you grinning at, Curls?” Zayn grins, tipping Harry’s chin with his finger so that he can press a light kiss to his jaw, smiling against his smooth skin. 

“Lou,” Harry smiles, tapping out a quick reply before angling the phone so that Zayn can see the small pixels that form Louis’ near-fangirling words.  “I think he might be a bit freaked out about something,”

Zayn’s eyebrows meet in his forehead as he reads over the words, trying to understand the multiple uses of exclamation marks that are tacked both onto the end and in the middle of his sentences.

‘I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DOOOOOO!! HAZZA! HELPPPPP! MEEEEE!!’

“What do you think has got him so worked up?” Zayn asks, nodding towards Harry’s phone so that he can re-pocket it, slipping his hand back into Zayn’s once the device is forced into his skin-tight jeans; Zayn will never quite understand how he manages to get them up his legs without stopping the blood flow to his feet.

“Meh,” Harry shrugs his shoulders, swinging his hand in Zayn’s and smiling down at it, fascinated.  “Could be anything, gotta wait for his reply though before we know.  He seemed happy though, yeah?”

Zayn nods, he did seem happy or even excited, not as if he was in any kind of emotional panic of such, maybe a little confused as to what to do but not as if he’s having a meltdown; Zayn’s glad, he can’t stand to see Louis like that again, it broke his heart, let alone Harry’s, the first time round.

“Yeah, he seems happy; maybe it’s got something to do with his job?” Zayn says, blowing up at a piece of loose hair that’s dangling over his forehead and being an overall nuisance.  “Maybe he got that job and is feeling a bit unsure or something?”

“Yeah, that’s probably it!  I forgot all about that,” Harry frowns at himself before his phone’s vibrating in his pocket, startling him from his thoughts.

‘I DON’T UNDERSTAND PEOPLE THAT ARE CRYPTIC HAZ!!!’

‘Who’s being cryptic? x’

“Maybe it’s not his job, then?” Zayn says as he perches his chin on Harry’s shoulder, watching and waiting for a reply from Louis as much as Harry is.

‘Niall.’

“Niall, being cryptic?” Zayn chuckles, hot breaths dancing over the back of Harry’s ear when Zayn lets out a hearty laugh as he reads Louis’ capitalised words.  “Niall isn’t cryptic; he doesn’t know how to be.  He just tells you what’s on his mind, doesn’t mislead you.”

Harry nods; Niall isn’t cryptic, well, not to him anyway.

‘Why’s he being cryptic?’

‘No idea, he just is!!!’

Zayn laughs again, smiling against the side of Harry’s neck.  “Maybe you should have worded it with ‘how is he being cryptic’, not ‘why’.”

Harry turns his head to nip at Zayn’s nose before turning his attention back to his keypad, grinning when Zayn huffs out an apology and nibbles on his earlobe instead.

‘I meant how :)’

‘GOD HAZZZZ, I DON’T KNOWWWWWWW!! HE JUST IS!’

‘That doesn’t help anyone, Lou. x’

‘You’re no use, Harold.’

Harry huffs, pouting out his bottom lip at his friend’s response, sending back an emoticon with a sticky out tongue, not caring how childish it makes him look when Zayn starts to chuckle at him. 

“And that’s why I love you,” Harry rolls his eyes, turning his head so that Zayn’s kiss lands on his lips instead of his cheeks where it had been destined to sit. 

He lets Zayn lead the kiss, grinning when he nibbles on his lips, begging for the entrance that he wants before Harry lets up and Zayn smirks against his lips before Harry starts sucking on his tongue instead, not letting Zayn in when he can get what he actually wants through giving to the brown eyed boy. 

“That’s another reason,”  Zayn breathes out, voice hoarse and breathless as he speaks, words falling from his lips all gravely and it makes something in Harry’s stomach flip as he watches how the dark haired male tugs his lower lip between his teeth, eyes gleaming.

“Only two reasons?” Harry questions as they pull away, biting at his lower lip as he watches how Zayn’s hair has fallen into his face due to the fact Harry’s hands had run through it, fingers teasing and tousling the strands.

“God no,” Zayn sighs, cheeks flushed as he tries to push his hair back up into something that won’t get his colleagues grinning knowingly at him all day.  “There are _so_ many more,” He smiles over at Harry, eyes all soft and gooey and affectionate as he watches the curly haired boy, reaching his thumb out to stroke it over his jaw.

“But I’d be here all day if I were to tell you them all and as much as I love to see your face every day of the forever that is yet to come, Barbara needs you over at the bakery and I need to sort through some very important paperwork.”

Harry frowns but smiles none the less when Zayn’s fingers trail over his lips, as if fascinated by them as he keeps his eyes locked on Harry’s own green pair.  “I love you, Hazza.”

“I love you too,” Harry grins, reaching a hand up to push a loose strand of hair back behind Zayn’s ear before he’s pulling the smaller boy into a hug, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheeks just before they pull apart.  “Have a good day!”

Zayn snorts, grinning despite himself at his boyfriend as he starts to walk down the pavement. “I can’t see that happening somehow!  But you have a good day too!”

Harry’s laughter ringing in his ear is the only thing that puts a skip in his step as he starts his journey alone, missing Harry’s warm palm in his own as he swings it as he walks, it not falling quite how it did mere seconds before when Harry was by his side.  

He’s so whipped; he loves it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	85. Can't leave you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any ideas for chapter title names, please let me know by leaving your idea on that chapter:) I'll credit you for them in said chapter:)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh - check her out, she's ace:)

On the way back to his apartment, Louis’ cheeks are red, not only from the cold but also the blonde boy that is skipping along beside him, claiming he has time to walk Louis home before work.

“Honestly, Lou, it’s fine.” He assures as Louis starts to whine about Niall being late for work again as they round the street that leads away from the supermarket and towards Louis’ apartment in the opposite apartment.  “Plus, Greg owes me more or less a full shift, so I’m covered if I am a little late.”

Louis shakes his head, his legs a little bit wobbly still as the slashes on his knees heal over, the skin pulling taut as he moves, but he steadies himself anyway, slowing Niall down but said boy doesn’t complain, just falls into step with Louis happily.

“When does your shift start, anyway?” Louis asks, the hoodie that Niall threw over his head when he tried to leave in just the t-shirt he borrowed off of Niall, starting to slip off his shoulders as the wind zooms past them before he tugs it back up, tucking his hands into the large pockets afterwards.

“Around half eight-ish today, we can’t start selling until like nine anyway, so me and Ed normally just hang around in the staff room for a while, either that or we come in just before the shift starts because we’re running late!”

Louis shakes his head, smiling when Niall starts grinning and laughing, open and wide as he throws his head back.  “Ed from the pub a while ago?”

“Yeah,” Niall nods, flicking his eyes towards Louis and smiling softly.  “Yeah, the ginger nutter with a knack for song writing, that’s him.”

“Did he get that song finished that he started writing at the table?” Louis thinks aloud, jumping at the sound of his voice, the words he wanted that to stay inside of his brain filtering into Niall’s ears.

“I don’t know actually,” Niall cocks his head in thought as he works through the words in his brain.  “Probably not,” He decides, shaking his head to emphasis his point. “Normally he just writes snippets and then uses them at a later date, y’know?  I like to think of it like a story; that he’s building it up piece by piece with each new line he writes, until he has all of them and he can create an accurate picture of what he’s describing.”

“So he thinks of the past before he can present the future?” Louis asks, voice soft as he tries to stop the smile that’s building on his lips at how Niall described Ed’s song writing, how poetic he is.  “Do you write songs as well then?”

Honestly, his brain to mouth filter must be as broken as the muscles around his mouth.

Niall laughs regardless, slinging his hand up to sit it on Louis’ shoulder as they round the final street where Louis’ apartment block is staring at them from the other end of the street.

“Yeah, he does.  He wants to tell the whole story, if you know what I mean?  He doesn’t want to make his audience jump to an untrue conclusion because he hasn’t given them all of the pieces that they need to fully understand it.  And yeah, sometimes, when I find the time to do it, I write stuff.”

Niall smiles nervously as they edge closer to Louis’ apartment, as if waiting to be shot down by Louis.  “Can I hear something sometime, then, maybe?”

Niall’s mouth falls open before he picks his jaw back up off of the ground, ducking his eyes as the tips of his ears singe.  “Yeah, course, when I write something decent enough, sure.”  He tacks a nervous laugh on the end of his sentence that makes something in Louis click.

“I bet they’re all more than just decent,” His voice is strong as he keeps his eyes locked with Niall’s unsure pair, and had he not known that he’d been the one broken just over 12 hours ago, he’d feel like the strongest of the pair of them.  “I bet they’re all ace and brilliant and above and beyond what you say or think that they are.”

Niall runs a hand through his hair, fingers getting caught in the strands as he smiles small at Louis, eyes still slightly unsure.  “Not really, but thanks, Lou.  That means a lot; more than you know, actually.”

Louis smiles, shrugging his shoulders before his eyes are landing on the door to his building, the paint cracked on the rickety doorframe as he leans against it.  “You’d better get back to work,”

“Don’t you mean _to_ work?” Niall grins, eyes bright, wiping away the insecurity that had been clouding the brilliant blue of his orbs as he looks at Louis, who smiles right back, rolling his eyes and shaking his head at the blonde.  “I’ll text you, yeah?”

Louis pauses then, the last time that he and Niall saw each other before yesterday, Louis had kissed him.

He had _kissed_ Niall.

He worries his lower lip as he watches Niall, barely able to take in the confused slant of the blonde’s head as he sorts through his thoughts, ripping them all apart before taping them back together messily as he tries to convince himself to keep Niall away, for his own good. 

To push the blonde away to save him from the mess that Louis will make his life if he’s allowed in again.  Warning Niall of the trouble that will follow him if he allows Louis to step back into his life so easily, the problems that will come up and haunt him until he kicks Louis away.

He needs to save Niall from himself.

“Yeah, okay,” Louis grins and Niall’s face lights up at those words before he’s scuttering to work, grinning and shooting apologies over his shoulder that Louis can’t process as he heads to work.

Louis’ unable to do more than smile tightly at the blonde when he’s trying to convince himself he did the right thing, when he _knows_ he hasn’t; that he’s just been selfish because he doesn’t want to lose the only piece of happiness that has been willing to step into his life and stay there without running away screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	86. Chapter 86

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not ashamed to say I had to google to find out what those plastic dividers that you use when you put your shopping onto a conveyor to split it up from the people around you, are called.

Ed’s not at work when Niall slips into the building, a grin plastered to his lips as he weaves through the early morning shoppers into the staff room before darting out to his cashier point, smiling at Jade who’s occupying the booth opposite him.

“Where’s Ed?” He calls across the space between them as he keys in his cashier code and watches the till point buzz to life before him.  “I thought he was in today.”

Jade shakes her head as she pushes the checkout dividers down to the end of the conveyor absentmindedly.  “No, he booked today off; I think he’s going to meet a friend, or something like that.”  She taps her nails on her till point, biting at her lip as she thinks.  “I think he called her Mia, or Martha?  I began with an M, anyway.”

“Megan,” Niall grins across at her as people start to lug their baskets and trolleys towards their till points.  “He met her at a wedding a few weeks back, I imagine it’s her he’s off to meet.”

They fall silent then, their attention switching from each other over to the customers that are loading their goods onto their respective conveyors, following their items down the belt until they can pack it back into bags to reposition it inside of their baskets of trolleys. 

It’s rather pointless, Niall thinks, how you put your lightest items on the top of your trolley to stop them from getting squashed as you find more goods, then, when you come to take them all out at the cash point, the heaviest items end up being on the top when you repack them into your trolley, consequently squashing the items you earlier tried so hard to protect.

He overanalyses the whole of his day until break time rolls around and he’s free to go over to the coffee shop, smiling with, and chatting to, Liam and Alex like he has all the time in the world before he’s sprinting back to the supermarket and launching himself into his cashiers seat, still wearing his hoodie that’s damp with the light drizzle that caught him on the way back.

Then he’s back to people watching, stretching his face into something that resembles a smile to every new face that arrives at his checkout point, asking if they’d like any help with their packing, trying to stop himself from groaning every time they accept his offer.

“You don’t look like you’re having much fun,” a small voice says when he’s ducked his head underneath his cash point, hunting down more carrier bags when his cash point finally became clear and Jade was forced to make the customers happy instead, making him jump, eyes wide when he lifts his head and sees the clear blue eyes of Louis staring down at him, hoodie hanging off his shoulders and bunched up around his wrists.

“Hey Lou,” Niall smiles, pushing himself up in his seat and pushing his hair up off of his face from where he couldn’t be bothered to try and style it, leaving it more or less the same as it was when he woke up, Louis’ body wrapped under his arms earlier that day.  “What’re you doing here?”

Louis’ eyes move down to the conveyor, smiling small as he cocks his head to the side, looking amused.  “I’ve come to pay for my shopping.”

“Your shop-” Niall’s eyes follow where Louis is looking and widen comically in understanding.  “Oh, your shopping!  I’m sorry; I’m so out of it today,” He chuckles as he starts to pass each item by the scanner, the beeps sounding pleasant to his ears for once. 

“Did Harry write the list again?” Niall smiles, as he starts packing Louis’ groceries into the flimsy supermarket carrier bags, not wanting Louis to do it, despite the fact he normally _loves_ it when people pack their own shopping, saving him an extra job.

“It’s the same one,” Louis rubs a hand down the back of his neck as he chuckles lightly, cheeks dancing with a gentle blush.  “It was on my kitchen table and I was bored of being at home - needed something to do, y’know?”

Niall nods, understanding what Louis means, how boring staying at home can be when you’ve got nothing to actually do, but want to find something to keep your attention for even a short while.

“You could’ve watched _Fast and Furious_ ,” Niall supplies as he fumbles with a pack of yoghurts that keep slipping through his fingers. 

“I thought we were going to watch that,” Louis’ voice is quiet as he watches Niall with wide eyes, his orbs glossy as he nibbles on his lower lip, pinching at the skin on his wrists where his bandages stop and his skin is exposed.

Niall reaches out, pushing Louis’ hands from his wrists when he sees the red lines start to mar his skin, leaving it sore and crimson before knocking his hands at Louis’ mouth, fingers accidentally hitting his lips as he tries to pull Louis’ teeth off of his battered lips.

“You’ll hurt yourself,” Niall whispers when Louis watches him with wide eyes, slipping his hands into the pockets of the hoodie that Niall realises is the one he leant Louis not many hours before.  “And we are, doesn’t mean you can’t watch it though.  It is your DVD after all.”

“Didn’t want to watch it without you,” Louis whispers as he hovers over his shopping, starting to push items into the bags like Niall.  “It would ruin it.”

Niall smiles, the final item of Louis’ shopping being scanned into the cash point to deliver Louis’ final total before Niall’s passing the packet of spaghetti into Louis’ carrier, by the loaf of bread that he’s got stashed in there.

His eyes hunt down his check out for the small booklet with coupons in it, searching the length and underneath the counter until he finds one, scanning the necessary token to take the specific amount off of Louis’ total.  “That’ll be £11.20, please, Lou?”

Louis hands the money across with a smile as the notes and coinage hit Niall’s palm.  “I think it’s all there,” Niall grins when he counts it out, the exact amount sitting in his palm before he’s sliding it into its specific spots inside the register.

Louis doesn’t move from the check point then, his hands sitting on the edge of the loading bay as he watches Niall, an unsure smile on his lips as he nibbles on them, hands white against the edge that he’s gripping onto.

“Lou?” Niall tries, reaching his hand out to pull Louis’ fingers loose of the grip they’re caught in, wincing himself when he remembers how gashed Louis’ hands had been yesterday and the strain the clenching must be putting on them. “You’ll hurt your hands, if you do that,”

Louis nods, ducking his head as he lifts his eyes to meet Niall’s again, lip still caught between his sharp canines as he pierces them through the tender flesh.  “Is it okay if I text you?”

Niall nods, a shit eating grin lacing his lips as he does so, blonde hair bobbing up and down against his forehead as he tries to seem as cool as possible.  “Yeah, course, Lou.  I’ll text you when I get off work or something, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis’ voice is quiet as he slips his hands in the handles of his carrier bags, the plastic straining under the weight of his shopping as he hobbles through the shop towards the exit, knees no doubt insanely sore from the battering they took yesterday, Niall thinks.  “Bye, Ni,”

“Bye, Lou,” He says, smiling when Louis flicks him a small smile over his shoulder before he sets off down the street, bags bashing at the backs of his legs as he moves, movements robotic as his body tries to limit the pain that’s inflicted upon it.

Niall heart wrenches out of his chest at the sight, but there’s nothing he can do when a tall man with stubble like a yeti, looks down at him, waiting for his shopping to be scanned and totalled for him.  Niall hates his job sometimes; he really does.  

He starts scanning the man’s shopping with a scowl, glaring at his back when he steps out of the shop, his shopping bags heavy in his hand, though he’s one step closer to Louis than Niall can ever be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	87. Longing to be free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One step closer to those secrets, my friends...
> 
> Also, if any of you have any ideas for chapter title names, please leave them in the comments box<3
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh<3

Zayn’s leant against Louis’ front door when he gets back home, his back against the grubby grain of the door as Louis stops up near it, smiling small at the taller boy.

“Hey, Zayn,” He lowers his carrier bags down to his feet so that he can tuck his hands into his pocket and pull out his house keys.  “What’re you doing here, thought you were at work today.”

Zayn shrugs his shoulders, pulling his hands out of his jacket pocket as he watches Louis, tucking the lighter that he had been fiddling with back inside of them.  “It’s my lunch hour and I just thought I’d come round and see how you were doing,”

“Oh,” Louis stutters, reaching to pick up his shopping but Zayn beats him to it, sliding the plastic of the carriers over his hands and lifting them up, wiping away Louis’ whines the moment they fall into the air.  “Come in then, would you like something to drink?”

Louis heads through his front door after Zayn, guiding the dark haired boy towards his kitchen and telling him to just drop the shopping on the worktop as he fills the kettle, pulling two mugs out of the cupboard and lining them up.

“Coffee, please, Lou,” Zayn says as he lowers the bags onto the counter, starting to pull out items and open cupboard doors, sliding the few items that he’d bought into their places within Louis’ kitchen.  “Where do you want the pasta?”

Louis makes an uncommitted noise in his throat, raking his eyes over the kitchen to think where it used to live, mind blank due to the fact it hasn’t actually occupied his kitchen for at least three weeks, the last time it was here it was because Niall brought it over.

“Just throw it anywhere, I guess?  It doesn’t really have a specific place to go,” He starts to potter around the kitchen then; looking for the milk that he _knows_ is hidden within his bags, his hands red with the cuts of the bags straps from when he carried them back here, the majority of their weight stemming from that big, plastic bottle.  “Do you want milk or sugar?”

“Just milk,” Zayn says as he passes the bottle over to Louis with a smile,  as he scrunches up Louis’ used shopping bags, sliding them into the recycling bin under his sink before lowering himself down into one of Louis’ kitchen chair as he watches the smaller boy prepare their drinks.  “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Louis says, turning round to face Zayn and place his drink down in front of him, sliding into the seat opposite him as he tucks his fingers through the handle of his mug.  “Did Haz send you?”

Zayn laughs, shaking his head as he takes a mouthful of coffee, swallowing it with a grin.  “This coffee is good, what is it?”  He goes for another mouthful, grinning around it as he licks at his upper lip, Louis still eyeing him suspiciously.  “Anyway, no he didn’t, I came because I wanted to.”

“Oh,” Louis pulls his feet up so that they’re poised on the end of his seat, toes hanging over the edge of his seat as he sits.  “I’m sorry,” He blushes as he ducks his head into his knees, avoiding eye contact with Zayn.

“It’s fine,” Zayn assures, reaching across the table to knock his knuckles against Louis’ knee, friendly.  “I’ll admit I sort of came for Haz, but he didn’t ask me to.”

Louis lifts his eyes at that, confusion clouding them as he props his head on his knees, head cocked to the side, confused. 

“I saw the texts you sent this morning,” Louis lowers his eyes instantly, nibbling on his lower lip as the tips of his ears go crimson.  “I just came over to see if you’re alright and if there was anything I can do to help.  Plus, I didn’t really understand them, if I’m being honest,” Zayn props his head on his hands then, fingers playing with the stubble that’s lining his jaw.

“Why?” Louis whispers, lips hitting his arms and knocking the sound out of his words, forcing them to be mumbled letters in the air of his apartment.

“Well, I didn’t really understand how Niall could be cryptic,” Louis blushes when Zayn says the words but he carries on regardless, knowing this is like removing a bandage; ripping it off quickly spares the pain that peeling it off slowly causes.

Louis’ shoulders shrug as he pulls his hoodie down his hands, covering the bandages that catch Zayn’s eyes, the white stark against the tan of Louis’ skin, but he doesn’t say anything about them, can already feel the unease rolling off of Louis in waves.

“I’ve known him for years.  Niall, Liam and I used to go to school together and I just can’t fathom how he could be classed as cryptic, he’s the most straight up person I know, if I’m being honest,”

Zayn sips at his drink, wrapping his hands around it to keep them warm as he keeps his eyes on Louis, watching how he chews on his lower lip as if ripping it to shreds will help him any. 

“You don’t have to tell me, Lou,” Zayn assures, keeping his eyes soft and honest when Louis looks up into them, lip still caught between his teeth.  “I was just asking in case you wanted to tell someone,”

“I do,” Louis sighs, letting his lip spring back into place away from the tip of his tooth as he drops his hand onto the kitchen table, scratching his nail against the hard surface, drawing lines into the top that get lost in the grain, undetectable.  “I just don’t know what to say, how to explain it.”

“Just go with it, whatever sits on the end of your tongue, say it.” Zayn smiles, reaching out to ghost his fingers over Louis’ hand.  “It won’t leave this room, I promise.  I know how much an opportunity like this makes your heart race to get it off of your shoulders, but something in you wants to force the words back down your throat instead.”

Louis nods, eyes soft and _young_ as he watches Zayn, licking over his lip to sooth the red that’s blossomed on it, forced it to look as sore as it does.  “Okay,” He nods his head; movements slow as he draws shapes into the tabletop.  “You won’t tell anyone?”

“Not a soul,” Zayn promises, keeping his posture relaxed and his voice soft as he speaks, memories of how he had been the one on the opposite side of the table rushing back to him as Louis looks at him with eyes of someone half his age, a scared boy that doesn’t quite understand what’s wrong and how he can fix it.  “I promise,”

He sticks his pinky finger out towards Louis, watching the way familiarity flashes in his eyes at the gesture and his shoulders fall from their previously defensive stance to hang loosely as he takes Zayn finger in his own, wrapping it around it with a smile.

“Thanks Zayn,” He breaths, clenching Zayn’s finger between his own before pulling away and setting himself up for the feeling of falling that’s going to rush through his veins as he opens up. 

Zayn should know, he felt it swoosh through his veins not many months ago; the unforgiving throb of knowing that you should try to handle your problems on your own forcing your throat closed, your words caught in the hands of the demons that are sitting on your tongue, holding you down in the darkness of the life you want to escape.

He _needs_ to help Louis escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	88. Comfort me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just like to frustrate you...
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh<3

His nails dig themselves down into the thickness of the table grain as he tries to keep his voice steady, his eyes wide as he formulates the words he needs in his mind, willing them to transpire on his tongue also.

When they do, they’re croaky and broken, the force of the words hitting him as if he’s re-living what he’s describing, feeling the pain flicker through his veins again, even at the mere reminder of what he’s endured.

His mouth forms the words his mind wants but he can’t even begin to process them as they flood into the air, fighting against the demons that are perched within his throat, pulling them back down with fingers that rip the words apart, leaving them breathy and near whispers as he speaks.

He feels the tears seep into his eyes, hot and tacky before they tumble down his cheeks, leaving behind a trail that just can’t leave his skin, his hands rubbing desperately at his eyes as he tries to get them out of his orbs, to stop them from falling.

His fingers are soon so wet with tears that there’s no point in even attempting to wipe them away with his skin, because instead they’re leaving behind moisture on his cheeks, the skin feeling pulled taut against his cheekbones as they start to evaporate against his flushed skin.

He soon gives up wiping his tears away with his sleeve however because it’s making the tender skin around his eyes sore and become puffy as he speaks and he can barely stop himself from falling into the body opposite him, into giving up on his explanation and huffing his sadness into the skin of the person that’s bothering and _cares_ enough to listen to him blubber.

He curls his feet up underneath himself as he talks, toes cracking as he moves from the place he had been sat for so long as they readjust to the movement.  He winces as they do so, but bites at his lip to stop the hiss from catching anyone’s attention.

His tears slow the closer he gets to the end of his explanation, breath hitching instead as he works the final few words over his lips, the words that he’s been trying to hide from both the world and himself for the past three years.

“It’s okay, Zee,” Harry assures, reaching across the table to peel Zayn’s hands from the grain of the table, crescent shaped marks being left in the table top as he does so.  “Honestly, you’re fine now, so fine,”

Harry’s voice is so soft and so sure that it breaks Zayn’s heart all over again, huffing out tiny tears that he’s sure he’s already lost through his tear ducts but are streaming down his cheeks anyway, lacing them with a roadmap of tears.

Before he knows it, Harry’s laid on the table top, cradling Zayn’s head to his chest as he whispers sweet nothings into said dark haired boy’s ear, stroking the hair that’s flopped onto his sweaty forehead, like his mother would when he was younger.

That thought alone starts another fit of tears that have Harry pulling Zayn up to sit on the table top to, stroking away the tears that are brimming around his eyes as he kisses at Zayn’s temple.  “You’re okay, that’s all in the past and that’s all over now.  I’m not going to let anything like that happen to you again, Zee, I _promise_ you.”

He hooks his pinky finger around Zayn’s, lips stretching into a toothy smile when Zayn smiles back, biting at his lip.  “I love you,” He croaks as Harry pulls him impossibly close, his tears ceasing to fall when he can smell the familiar spice of Harry’s aftershave against his nose.

“I love you too,” Harry whispers, running his hands through the knots of Zayn’s hair as he speaks, soothing the stress of Zayn’s experiences from the smaller boy’s body as he holds him close.  “You’re so perfect to me, you really, really are, Zayn.  No matter what anyone else says, you more than every word they could use to describe you, you truly are.”

Zayn can’t fight the smile off of his lips as he hugs tighter to Harry, his feet still tucked under his thighs as they sit up on Harry’s kitchen table, the wooden legs not quite steady underneath them as they fold themselves into each other’s space.

“I think maybe we should get down,” Zayn whispers when he hears the crack of wood underneath them and Harry just smiles against his temple.

“Maybe we should,” He whispers, lips so soft as they trace along Zayn’s temple, leading a shiver down Zayn’s spine.  “Or we could,” He starts before he lifts Zayn up in his arms, lowering him down onto the worktop across from them before Harry lifts himself up also, grinning widely across at Zayn as he does so, taking Zayn’s hand in his.  “Sit here instead.”

“You’re a nutter,” Zayn whispers, ducking his head against Harry’s chest to hear the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat in his ear.  “But I love you,”

“I love you too,” Harry smiles, drawing shapes into Zayn’s hip as they lay across one another, the world passing by around them as their attention fails to shift from anything but themselves, each other being the only thing that matters within their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are of course my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	89. Chapter 89

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 6,000 hits - that is mental, I love you all<3

“I don’t quite know how to explain it,” Louis shrugs, toying with his fingers as he ducks his eyes, tips of his ears burning but Zayn just sits still, barely breathing as he waits for Louis to carry on at his own pace.

“He was just being like,” He scrunches his hands in his hair, tugging lightly at the strands and groaning at the words that don’t seem to want to drip off of his tongue.  “So _nice_ , and I just don’t know, it felt different, like a different kind of nice.”

Zayn smiles when Louis’ cheeks start to become splattered with the crimson of a blush, keeping his eyes on his coffee so as to not make Louis any more nervous and unsure than he already is.

“Was it a good kind of different?” Zayn asks when Louis goes quiet, biting at the end of his tongue as he picks at his nails, ripping them off once he’s bitten at them enough times to leave them weakened. 

“Yeah,” Louis whispers, chewing on his lips as he speaks, words quiet in the silence of the room as he pulls his legs up onto his chair, crossing them over one another as he sits.  “I guess it was.”

“You guess?” Louis shrugs, looking down at his hoodie and grating his nails against the teeth that aren’t zipped up inside of it, tapping his feet against the wood of his kitchen chair.

Zayn continues to take sips of his drink, keeping his eyes on his hands as to try to help Louis formulate the words that he wants to.  “I understand what you’re going through, you know?”

Louis’ eyes flash up to stare into Zayn’s caramel pair, the questions barely hidden behind the blue of his irises.  “What do you mean?”

Zayn shifts himself in his seat, leaning his forearms against the table top as he wraps his hands around the cooling porcelain of the mug.  “I know how strange this is; what’s happening to you.  How you thought that no one would want you and then suddenly, completely out of the blue, someone does.”

Louis sucks in a breath but Zayn carries on regardless, for one thing needing to get the words into the air finally, but also for Louis’ benefit, so that he can understand. 

Zayn smiles when he thinks back to all those weeks ago when Louis and Niall had been inseparable, glued to each other’s sides as the night went on, Niall’s head ducking just that little bit closer to Louis’ mouth as he spoke, Louis’ elbows brushing against Niall’s hands on the tacky top of their table at the pub.

“You don’t know quite what to do with yourself around Niall, do you?” Zayn smiles softly when Louis ducks his head, shaking his head timidly.  “It feels as if he should go and find someone better, someone that’s not you, yet he just keeps coming back again, regardless.”

Zayn smiles as he spies the picture of Harry tacked to Louis’ fridge, words flowing more effortlessly when he does.

“He doesn’t seem to see all the cracks and troubles that you have, even the ones that are blatantly obvious to you, and instead he’s able to see the good that you can’t even begin to believe exists within you.” 

“He makes you want to pull your hair out and scream at him that he should leave and find someone else, something better; but when you do, he just comes back with a gentle smile on his face like he’s the one that screamed the curses and shouted the abuse, that he’s the one that should be begging for forgiveness, not you.”

“He treats you like you’re normal, like you’ve not gone through the shit that you have; that your experiences haven’t fucked you up and made you something that no one should have to endure.”

“He just treats you like you’re the one who makes smiling worthwhile, the one that makes the shit go away, even just for a little while.  He makes you wonder how you missed him before and why he’s come back for you now, what you did to deserve him.”

“You feel as if you’ve been dealt the wrong hand, that you’ve stolen the top poker player’s cards straight from his hands and you’re going to ruin his life when you play them.  He makes you treasure everything you have, more than you ever did.”

“Having him in your life makes you feel selfish because he could do better, Harry could find someone who hasn’t been kicked out of their house aged just 16 for being gay, wasn’t bullied for two years at school for being gay, coming home limping due to the attacks outside of school and only having his pillow for comfort because his parents couldn’t see past the smiles he plastered on every day.”

Zayn chews on his lip, gritting out the words that not even Harry knows the full extent of, but he’s so caught up in the wave of emotions, the feeling of not saying the words like a lead weight in his stomach.

“Harry could find someone who doesn’t live in the bedsit that his sister more or less paid for, gunshots sounding through the air throughout the day, racial and sexist slurs ricocheting off all the walls as he tries to sleep at night.”

Louis reaches across the table with wide, sad eyes.  “It’s okay, Zee.” He squeezes Zayn’s fingers with a tight smile that he recognises from Harry’s face when he last said these words, felt the darkness start to seep out of his bones, consuming his soul as he replayed them in the head, letting someone in.

 “He makes you want to hide yourself back in the darkness that you’ve lived through, to take all the punches, just so that he doesn’t have to, and you don’t quite know how to accept that.  You want to understand, but you just can’t because it’s so new and you don’t feel as if it’s _right_.”

“Something in you says that one day he’s going to be gone and you’ll be so much worse off than you would have been had you never let him in, had pushed him away the moment his fingers tried to take down your walls.  That when he finally sees the better things that are waiting for him, he’ll be gone and he’ll never come back.”

Zayn gulps back the whine that wants to slip through his lips, keeps his eyes on the bird tattoo that’s flying across his hand, smiling down at the simple lines and feeling Harry’s skin under his fingers, as if imprinted in his skin.

“But, Lou, it’s worth it,” Louis looks up into Zayn’s eyes, blue irises big and childlike as he watches the younger boy, his hand still trapping Zayn’s, squeezing subconsciously as Zayn continues.  “ _So_ worth it.”

“It is?” Louis whispers, voice hoarse with disuse as he speaks towards Zayn, as if he knows everything, and in a way, he kind of does. 

He’s been in Louis’ shoes, he’s felt the rushes of uncertainty, the plumes of confusion, but he’s lived through them.  He’s seen the happiness that sits shrouded behind the clouds of the unknown, knows it’s more than worth the struggles to get there.

“It is,” Zayn nods, flashing a smile when Louis’ eyes catch his own.  “Niall wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, y’know.”

Louis huffs out a breath, his chest falling with the violent force of the air leaving his lungs.  “I know,” His words are wrapped around the final wisps of his breath as he unwinds his hand from around Zayn’s, bringing it back into his chest to pick at the end of his fingers.

“So what’s stopping you then,” Louis startles at Zayn’s words, eyes nervous as he looks up at the taller male.  “If you don’t mind me asking,”

Louis shrugs his shoulders, hiding behind his shaggy fringe as he tucks his knees against his chest, leaning back in his chair.  “I don’t know,”

He fiddles with his fingers before tugging the hoodie down them, the arms too long as they cover his hands, making him smile as he ducks his face into the shoulder of it, breathing in what he can only describe as _Niall_.

He rocks back in his chair as he keeps his nose ducked in the fibres off the too big hoodie, senses on overdrive at the feel of it against his skin and the scent of it in his nose. 

“I kissed him.”

Louis smiles, ducking his head as he says the words and Zayn sucks in a breath that catches the coffee in his mouth, making him choke.  “You kissed him?” Louis nods, cheeks pink as he does so, but his eyes shine regardless as he does so.  “And what did he do?”

“Not a lot, really.  He didn’t push me away, but he kind of held my hip while I did it.” Louis looks across at Zayn to try and gauge his reaction.  “Why?”

“Nothing,” Zayn smiles, taking a new sip at his cooling coffee before scowling at the taste on his tongue.  “You’re the first guy he’s kissed, that’s all.”

Louis’ jaw drops. 

“The first?” Zayn nods, watching Louis closely from across the table, noting how Louis’ driving his canine into his lower lip, no doubt piercing it with the pressure.

“Yeah, he’s only ever kissed girls, as far as I know,” Zayn shrugs.  “Liam might know for definite, but I think that you are, anyway.  He’s never really talked about kissing and stuff, he’s more reclusive when it comes to that, ever the gentleman, y’know?”

Louis grins, picking up his mug to try to conceal the stretch of his lips from Zayn’s knowing eyes, but most definitely failing when Zayn starts chuckling at him. 

“Shut up,” Louis mutters, kicking his foot out and making contact with Zayn’s shin, forcing the darker haired boy to wince into his coffee before laughing harder.

When Zayn’s calmed his manic laughter, his eyes turn softer, more serious and glisten in the light of Louis’ kitchen, the chocolate brown melting to reveal the smooth caramel centre of his eyes.  “So you’re alright then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis smiles, pushing his hair off of his forehead, Niall’s hoodie still caught around his fingers as he moves, making him grin at himself.  “I’m alright, Zayn.  You?”

Zayn nods, smiling when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, no doubt Harry wanting to know where he is, why he hasn’t turned up at the bakery yet.  “Yeah, I’m good, got Haz, that’s all I need.”

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone to spy Harry’s name dancing across the pixels.  “That’s him actually, which means my lunch must be almost up,” Louis nods, collecting up their mugs, loading them into the sink.  “Anyway, I’ve got to go, Lou, but it’s been good.  I hope you get everything sorted.”

“Me too,” Louis mumbles, clenching the cuffs of the hoodie in his hands as he walks Zayn to the door, waving him off with a smile before his phone’s vibrating in his pocket.

‘ _Fast and Furious_?  I’ve got popcorn :)’

‘Make it toffee and you’ve got a deal :)’

‘What other pop corn would I get?  That’s the only kind that people _should_ eat!!’

Louis chuckles before re-pocketing his phone and scuttering around his apartment, trying to stop the fluttering in his stomach and the bounce in step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	90. To be near you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An absolutely massive thank you to anyone that's continued to read this despite the fact it has now officially reached 90 chapters! It's mental to know that people are actually still here and haven't given up on me. It's lovely, it truly is. I love you all<3
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to my cheerleader, MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh<3 Love you so much<3

Louis finds Niall at his door not much later, carrier bag in hand and a cheesy grin on his face as he pulls the door open wider to let Niall through. 

“I brought popcorn,” Niall smiles, passing the bag over to Louis to hunt through, pulling off his shoes to make his feet match Louis’ sock-clad pair against the cream of Louis’ carpet.  “And some Doritos and other stuff.   Do you like strawberry laces?”

“Yeah, I do.”  Louis smiles as he roots around the bag, pulling out items to closer inspect them as he starts to shuffle towards the living room where _Fast and Furious_ is already set up, the menu playing out on the screen, waiting for them.

Niall grins, reaching his hand into the bag also to pull out the packet that has the laces wrapped up inside.  “I also got some cans of Coke,”

“You wanna sit down then, and I’ll go and grab some bowls to put them in?” Niall cocks his head to the side as he takes the bag out of Louis’ hands; wind chilled skin brushing against Louis’, making him shiver involuntarily.

“We can eat from the bags, save on washing up, if you want?” Louis nods, trailing Niall to sit on the sofa as the blonde boy lines all of the items he’s brought over on the coffee table, that Louis cleared earlier, just in case.

The amount of food and drink that covers the table top makes Louis turn to Niall with wide eyes.  “How much did you spend?” He rakes his eyes over the cans of fizzy drink, the bags of sweets, the packets of crisps and the popcorn bag set up in front of them.

“Under a tenner,” Louis’ eyes zoom to Niall’s face with a questioning look.  “Everything was on offer and I made sure to use both my employee discount and the coupons that are under the till to keep the cost down.” Niall explains, blue eyes soft.  “I knew you’d question it.”

There’s no malice behind Niall’s words, just an easy smile and bright eyes as he speaks, tucking his feet underneath himself and leaning over to grab a can of Coca Cola.  “Coke?” He offers it towards Louis whose cheeks are still flushed from the endearment of Niall’s words.

“The good kind?” Louis chuckles, playful smile on his face that has laughs ricocheting from Niall’s mouth and into his ears, making him grin wider, harder.

“Oh, the best,” Niall chuckles, reaching over to pass one into Louis’ hand before gripping his own and bringing it to his lips, frowning at the can as he pulls it from his lips.  “Bit warm though,”

“We can put them in the fridge?” Louis says, taking a pull of his own and not quite enjoying the warm caffeine on his tongue as he swallows.  “I think I’ve still got that bottle of Coke you brought last time in the fridge.”

Louis’ up and out of his seat before Niall even has time to contemplate an answer, thumbing over the magnets on his fridge before he pulls open the door, spying the red label of the bottle and pulling it out, grabbing two glasses on his way out of the kitchen.

“Thanks Lou,” Niall smiles when Louis passes him a glass full of the cool liquid, gulping it back with a satisfied huff.  “Tastes better cool,” He sticks out his teeth then, making Louis chuckle as he settles himself in the cushions of the sofa, watching the explosions dance over the menu screen of the film.

Niall settles in beside him as Louis reaches for the remote off of the arm of the sofa, flicking his fingers over the buttons to get the DVD to play in the machine, the titles flashing past their eyes before the film starts to play, the characters running around the screen.

Louis frowns at the glare from the living room light on the screen, casting an annoying light across the screen that wrecks the picture, though Niall doesn’t seem to notice it as he keeps his eyes on the screen, eyes wide in excitement as the characters dart around in their cars at speeds that would make Louis’ toes curl, terrified, if he was the one driving them.

Darkness envelops them suddenly, making Louis jump and yelp before Niall’s lowering a hand to sit on his thigh, stabling Louis’ wild breathing, but only momentarily before Louis realises what’s happening and he flushes, heart racing.

“Just turned them off because of the glare, is that okay?” Louis nods, keeping his eyes on the screen until Niall’s hand doesn’t move off of his thigh and he looks down at it; the spread of Niall’s pale fingers against his jogging bottom clad thigh. 

“Sorry,” Niall mumbles, pulling his hand off of Louis’ joggers as if burnt, his eyes falling onto the screen instantly as he peels his skin from Louis’.

“It’s fine,” Louis assures, voice a whisper so as not to disrupt Niall from the film, but needing to say the words anyway.

Niall flashes a small smile his way at the words, eyes shining as the film’s images reflect in them, painting his eyes with flashes of bright explosions and the roar of vehicle fires, that don’t match the kindness that is on every inch of his face.

Louis continues to watch Niall after that, attention failing to stick and stay on the film when Niall’s beside him, breaths so soft in the air like they had been just that morning when Niall’s fingers had tapped against his spine, filling his ears with familiar sounds that he hasn’t heard for years and making his skin burn deliciously.

He ducks his head when Niall turns towards him, feeling like a caught teenage girl staring after her crush, when Niall smiles at him, stretching his leg so that his sock-clad foot brushes against Louis’ thigh as he sits. 

Neither boy attempts to move away, eyes caught in the action before them, their hearts hammering more than those on the screen; but for much different reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	91. Chapter 91

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little bit Lady and the Tramp to me

As the film progresses, the action passing by in a blur before the pair’s eyes as they watch, enthralled.

Niall, however, fidgets when the film starts to slow down, the action no doubt building up - if the music is anything to go by - but the lack of visible action is making him restless.

Louis’ skin is heated, as if burnt, where Niall’s foot is pressed, clad in his thick socks but the contact still seems to buzz through Louis’ skin like shocks of electricity, making him as restless as Niall is next to him.

“Popcorn?” Niall whispers, reaching out to the bag and pulling it towards himself so that he can tear the seam and let the scent of toffee wrapped around the kernels fill the air between them. 

He guides the bag in Louis’ direction with a question hanging in his eyes as well as the air as Louis licks at his lips, trying to prevent his voice from being as hoarse as it feels trapped in his throat.

“Please,” Louis whispers, but Niall doesn’t seem to notice as he passes it to the brunette boy with an easy smile as he tucks one arm over the arm of the sofa, leaning back into it, but his foot is still outstretched to connect with Louis’ thigh.

Louis takes a handful of the offered treat, popping individual kernels into his mouth and letting the sticky pieces float on his tongue before swallowing them down and repeating the cycle. 

This soon bores him, however, when he sees Niall start to flick them into his mouth from his hand, fingertips occasionally tapping at his upper lip when he miscalculates the force needed to get the kernels into his mouth.

He looks across at Niall, blatantly staring, fascinated by the fact that he’s able to get each kernel into his mouth, even if sometimes he ends up clipping his fingers against his lips.  At that moment, Niall’s finger collides with his mouth, making him wince and jump slightly, Louis chuckling lightly at the reaction it caused from Niall.

Niall’s head twists immediately at the sound of Louis’ laughter, cheeks littered by a flush that’s highlighted by the bright light of the streetlamps zooming past the cars on the screen, lips turned down into a frown.

“Don’t laugh at me,” He pouts, making Louis laugh harder, lips stretching into a smile as he watches the pout on Niall’s lips grow.  “It’s not funny,” He rubs his finger over his lip to sooth the pain, but it doesn’t seem to work.

“It is a little bit,” Louis says when he’s able to control his quiet bursts of laughter, schooling his face but keeping the remnants of a smile on his lips, just purely because Niall looks funny when he pouts.  “How do you do it?”

“What, hit myself in the lip?” Niall questions, eyebrow raised, confused, as he speaks and Louis just chuckles, shaking his head and picking the final piece of popcorn out of his hand and throwing it towards his mouth unsuccessfully to show Niall what he means.

Realisation seeps into Niall’s eyes when he watches the kernel fly through the air, hitting the end of Louis’ nose before falling back down into his lap.  “Oh that,”

Niall re-adjusts himself on the sofa, twisting himself so that his attention falls purely on Louis, the TV lighting him side on and making his skin look pale and soft in the room, as his foot still manages to stay close to Louis’ skin, body heat radiating off of his limb and onto Louis’, despite the complete change in situ .

He reaches his hand out to retrieve the popcorn bag that’s become trapped between the centre sofa cushion, pulling it out and propping the bag in his lap as he digs around for a piece.  “Well, you can either flick it into your mouth or throw it,”

“Which one’s easier?” Louis asks immediately as he picks up a piece, keeping it between his fingers as he readjusts himself on the sofa, twisting towards Niall, also, so that he can see what he’s doing exactly.

“Probably the throwing one, but I’m not really sure,” Louis nods his understanding, watching Niall with excited eyes as he copies exactly what Niall does, poising his hand in the air ready to throw the popcorn up.  “You just more or less throw it, to be honest.  It’s sort of a case of luck and half skill,”

Niall throws up his own piece, wrapping his lips around it when it falls into his mouth, landing on his tongue before chewing away happily.  “Just try it, see how you do,”

Louis nods, hesitant, as he gets ready to throw the piece, the force behind it not strong enough to get it high enough to even begin to contemplate catching it in his mouth. 

“Try again,” Niall smiles, picking Louis a new piece out of the bag, since his piece rolled off of the sofa and onto the floor.  “Just throw it a bit harder,”

His aim isn’t very good, but he manages to brush his lips against it, the toffee coating ghosting against his lips when it falls past his mouth.  He frowns, picking the piece back up and trying again, keeping his eyes away from Niall’s because he can just imagine the look in them and doesn’t need any more of a distraction to ruin his method – it’s failing on its own already.

They sit like that for a while, Niall throwing pieces of popcorn into his mouth, seemingly immune to dropping any as he chews and swallows each piece whilst Louis’ left to try and copy the technique, trying to squeeze Niall’s advice into his own failing technique, getting more and more frustrated with his non-existent success rate.

“Try it like this,” Niall wraps his hands around Louis’ wrists so that his right hand is poised near his chest, kernel in the centre of his palm.  “Just flick your wrist up and be ready to follow it with your mouth.”

Louis looks across at Niall, cheeks burning with the contact of Niall’s skin against his own, looking down at how Niall’s hands wrap easily around his frail wrists.  His heart hammers in his chest, eyes widening in panic before he gets a hold on his mind, seeing the flash of blonde atop Niall’s hair and pushing away the darkness that’s threatening to creep into his veins, that’s wanting to take over his soul. 

Niall flicks Louis’ wrist for him when he sits still, forgetting what he’s supposed to be doing and looking at Niall with big, lost eyes that make something in Niall crack. “It’s fine, just flick,”

Louis’ eyes follow the movement of the treat in the air, the way it leaps into the air and starts to fall, as if _wanting_ to fall between his lips when it lands on his tongue.

Louis nearly chokes when he feels it hit his tongue, not quite expecting it to land there after the amount of failed attempts he participated in. 

Niall laughs from beside him, clapping his hands at Louis as he grins.  “Well done, Lou!” Louis blushes, ducking his head and chewing his food silently as Niall grins from beside him, almost beaming at the fact that the tiny treat landed in Louis’ mouth – Louis is probably as surprised as Niall is, to be honest.

They play around with the kernels, throwing them between themselves until the bag’s empty and they have no choice but to reach for something else off of the table, glugging back Coke before they start to chew on the threads of strawberry laces.

“Love these things,” Niall whispers as he wraps one end around his finger, the other being sucked into his mouth as he nibbles on it.  “Always remind me of being with Li and Zayn when we were at school and we would buy them from the shop near school every Friday on the way home,”

Louis listens intently as Niall talks about Liam and Zayn, their names flowing effortlessly into each and every story that Niall has to tell and it makes something in the pit of Louis’ stomach twist: he wants to be able to slot into memories that Niall wants to tell, he wants to be there, in the memories that Niall holds the closest to his heart.

Louis shakes the thoughts from his head before they can transpire into anything bigger, chewing on his lace like it’s the thing that’s done him wrong, not his lack of self control and common sense.

Niall dangles a lace in front of his face when Louis gobbles up his own quickly, swinging the red sweet in front of Louis’ eyes playfully, Louis nabbing out to pull it between his teeth and out of Niall’s grasp before the blonde even has a chance to register what’s happening.

Niall rewards him with a bright laugh; eyes squashed shut as he leans back against the sofa, toes wiggling against Louis’ legs as he vibrates with the force of his laugh, smiling around the sounds. 

“That’s got to be one of the best things I’ve ever seen,” He grins when Louis twists the sweets around his fingers, pulling off pieces to slip between his lips as he watches the amusement dance in Niall’s eyes before they’re landing on the menu screen flashing out before them.

“Obviously wasn’t a very good film,” Niall mumbles when he picks out a new strawberry lace to chew on, sitting cross-legged on the sofa as neither boy makes any effort to pick up the remote to switch off the TV, staying seated as it plays out before them again.

“Obviously,” Louis whispers, lace still trapped between his lips as Niall devours his own, it disappearing instantly between his lips.

Before Louis knows it, Niall’s teeth are wrapped around the end of his strawberry lace that’s not in his mouth, tugging on the end with a devilish grin as he tries to fight it out of Louis’ mouth, imitating what Louis did just moments before.

Niall’s eyes shimmer this close up, the blue vibrant and alive as his lips turn up in a wide smile, teeth trapping the sweet between them as he tries to steal it away, but Louis isn’t having it, pulling it back, sucking it up so that it’s curling up in his mouth, pulling it from Niall’s grasp instead.

Niall doesn’t give in, however, copying Louis’ methods to try and win it back before his lips are brushing against Louis’, meeting his so closely that Louis can taste the artificial strawberry on the blonde’s lips before Louis’ mind catches up with him forcing him to suck in a gasp so hard that Louis is surprised that he doesn’t suck the entire strawberry lace down his throat.

When their lips part, Niall looks up at Louis with unsure eyes that he can’t handle when he’s hand the Irish boy’s lips against his own, the crevices pressed up so lightly against his lips that it had tickled as they moved. 

“I’m sorry,” Niall whispers, voice quiet and unsure as he ducks his eyes from Louis’, before looking back up, nipping at his bottom lip with his teeth, pulling at it nervously.  “I’ll text you, maybe?”

Niall’s out of Louis’ flat before he can even register how cold the air around himself is when Niall isn’t just a few mere feet away from him, how his thigh feels icy cold now that Niall’s not got his foot pressed up against him.

His phone a heavy weight in his pocket, almost piercing his skin with the way it pains him because it’s not vibrating against his skin, notifying him of the fact that Niall hasn’t run out of his life screaming, when he _knows_ he has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are of course my own, and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	92. Chapter 92

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, google was my friend and informed me what that bit between your nose and mouth is called:)

Louis mopes around his apartment; lip between his teeth as he waits for Niall’s text, his call, even his voicemail; but nothing comes.

His phone lays vacant and still in his pocket, occasionally buzzing with texts that make him jump and his heartbeat hammer on the back of his tongue, echoing in his ears before he pulls it out of his pocket, frown sinking the smile on his lips and the flutter of his heart when he sees any name that isn’t Niall.

His hair seems to have grown so long and shaggy when he has nothing else to focus on, nothing to keep his attention, that he reverts to pulling it back with a bandanna - that Harry left in his flat at some point - to keep the overgrown ends out of his eyes and off of his face.  His hair sticks up behind where the material finishes but he can’t be arsed to fix it.

His stubble’s grown matted and prickly on his face, but he can’t bring himself to get rid of it.  Every time he tries to look in the mirror, razor in his hands, he can’t bring it to his face, knowing that the last thing that touched that area of his face was Niall’s skin, the subtle dip of his philtrum as his lips moulded against Louis’, and removing the hair feels like letting Niall go, pulling away the memory.

He nibbles on his lips as he scooters around his kitchen fixing himself something to eat when his stomach groans unhappily at him, reminding him that he needs to eat, that on some level he’s still normal.

He lowers himself down behind his kitchen table as he picks at his sandwich, looking out of his kitchen window over the sink to watch the hustle and bustle of the city on the horizon, the place where he used to be for the majority of his time and saw it as a safe haven; back then anyway.

He gulps down the heavy weight of the bread that he’s nibbled off of his sandwich, eyes observing the place which he’s throwing himself back into in a matter of days, his interview coming up on Wednesday.

His foods sits as heavy in his stomach as it did in his mouth, forcing him to push his plate away from himself, stomach groaning in complaint yet twisting in distaste, also.  He ignores his stomach, crossing his arms over it to try and hide the noises that it’s making as he continues to worry his lip, eyes anxious as he thinks of what he’s doing, what he’s doing to himself.

He’s letting himself be pulled into the city again; well, not really.  _Toys R Us_ is on the outskirts of the city, a 10 minute bus ride to get there, more or less, but it’s close enough to make something within him flip uncomfortably.

His skin feels hot as he sits, eyes trained on the clouds that are starting to form out over the city, the skyscrapers cutting through the thick of the dark clouds, breaking them to sit around their tall spires. 

Cars zoom down on the ground below him, outside of his apartment, making the walls shake as they pass by before another one trails it and the windows rattle in the panes, endless and unforgiving; making Louis question when the sheets of glass will finally just tumble out completely, giving up their daily battle to stay contained within their frames.

Before he has a chance to contemplate this, however, his phone is vibrating against his thigh, making him jump before pulling it from his pocket and poking at it, not turning on the screen because he needs time to school himself for the disappointment he’s going to face.

He leaves his phone by his hand for a full three minutes, keeping his fingers on his sandwich and pulling off tiny pieces before more or less forcing them down his throat, trying to swallow the pieces because his stomach still feels empty within him.

Once his sandwich is finished, just mere crumbs abandoned on his plate, he places it in the sink and lifts his phone into his hand, thumbing at it half-heartedly, eyes barely registering what’s written out for him on the pixels.

He drops it the instant he sees the name however, the message popping up on his screen and staring him straight in the face, words bright on the screen and burning themselves into the backs of his eyes, forcing him to see the words whenever he blinks.

‘Depending on how you feel about it, we can either forget about, or act on, what happened yesterday.  It’s up to you, Lou x’

Louis sinks to his kitchen floor, forgetting to pick up his phone when he slides down his kitchen cupboards to sit there with it, feeling as useless as it looks, splayed out on his kitchen floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	93. The moment of truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've just been waiting, oh, over 110,000 words for this moment, no big deal...
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to Sela_1D :)

Niall manages to keep his attention as far away from his phone as possible then; leaving it at home when he heads out to work so that he won’t be tempted to keep thumbing at it to check it for messages whilst he works, keeping it in the kitchen when he’s at home so that he won’t be inclined to keep staring at it and pinching himself whenever he disobeys his own personal rules.

Zayn watches him with confused eyes when he and Harry come round later that night, not fully participating with the conversation as Niall tries to keep them both entertained as they wait for their pizza’s to arrive.

“I’ll never quite understand why we do this on a Monday,” Harry chuckles, as he leans back into the crook of Zayn’s arm on the sofa.  “It would make more sense to do it at a weekend or something, really.”

Zayn and Niall make consecutive noises of confirmation as they sip at the beers which Harry brought with him.  “Maybe, but we can never seem to get ourselves organised,” Niall wipes at his lip, ridding it of the stickiness of his beer.  “Monday does always seem to work, though.”

The TV plays out in front of them, their eyes trained on it but their minds not fixated on it as the nameless characters try to solve the problems that have been scripted to them - Niall can’t even remember what it is they’re watching, if he’s being honest.

Before he can begin to question that fact and ask what they’re actually watching, there’s a knock at his door, giving him a reason to move, despite the fact he’s been restless all night; he’s surprised Zayn’s not called him out on it yet.

“I’ll get it,” He says, pulling himself out of the hold the sofa cushions have on him and dragging his feet as he walks towards the door, picking the money that sits in his pocket out into his palm.  “I’m coming!” He calls when another knock echoes against his front door.

When he pulls open the door, he’s met with a tall male wearing a washed out purple polo and dark jeans, feet clad in black Converse and two large pizza boxes in his hands, positioned so that they sit under Niall’s nose the moment he reaches out for them.

“Thanks, man,” Niall smiles, passing over the money and getting a grunt in return as the delivery boy pulls the boxes back into his grip.

“You owe me another three quid, mate,” Niall looks down at the coinage that’s sat in the pizza boy’s palm, scouring his eyes over it and frowning when he sees that he is short; the woman on the phone totalled it for him when he ordered their food – he blames her.

“I’ll be right back,” Harry and Zayn are watching him confused from their placement on the sofa, as he scooters off into the kitchen, pulling open the drawer where he throws odds and sods, counting up the spare change he keeps there as he pulls each coin out and presses it into his palm.

He’s about to leave the room, delivery boy still stood in his doorway with an expectant look on his face and their cooling pizza’s in his hands, before there’s a buzzing against his kitchen top, his eyes zeroing in on the rattle of metal against the worktop.

Before he knows it, he’s turning on his heels and heading across the room, not bothering to call through to Harry and Zayn to tell them to pay the delivery boy as he picks up his phone, the weight heavy and unfamiliar in his hands as he holds it, hands shaking.

He tries to press the lock button to get his phone to wake up, but his hands are shaking so hard that he can barely function them.  When his fingers finally brush against the button, his chest clenches: Louis.

All that’s visible on his phone screen is the five letters of his name, the message hidden behind his lock screen and it’s probably the worst thing that could happen. 

He holds the phone in his hand, fingers gripping it tightly but not securely as he wobbles on the spot, balance wavering.

He sucks in a breath, forcing it down his throat to fill his currently collapsed lungs as he tries to keep his balance, reaching a hand out to the worktop to keep himself upright, fingers clenched around it and starting to go white under all of the pressure.

His heart hammers in his chest as his fingers start to trail up the screen, swiping over it to reveal the words that he’s been waiting almost a day and a half for, eyes not quite focusing on the pixelated words when they rise up onto his screen from his message box.

They’re just a mixture of black and white lines when he tries to read them, heart sitting on the back of his tongue, threatening to choke him if he tries to swallow. 

His mouth is dry and his lips feel cracked and ready to fall off as he remembers the way that Louis’ had felt pressed up against him, the small pink of his cheeks warming Niall’s own as their lips brushed.

‘I don’t want to forget it.’

Zayn’s voice is like white noise in his mind when said boy comes up to him, dropping a hand on his shoulder as he speaks, voice sounding as though it’s travelling through water before it reaches Niall’s ears, disorientating him.

The coins that are clenched between his hands are slowly peeled from his palms and passed on, as Niall keeps his hands tight against the worktop, legs feeling weak and unsure as he keeps his eyes on his phone, reading and re-reading the words to try and get them to sink in, to take in what that could or couldn’t mean.

‘I don’t want to, either.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Remember, if you have any ideas for chapter title names, please leave them in the comments - I'll credit you for them if I pick them to be the best:)


	94. Dancing on cloud nine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit of a letdown from the previous chapter, I'm sorry<3
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to Sela_1D

His heart hammers as he presses send, but Zayn’s arms are solid around him, keeping him upright when he feels like all of the energy has been wrung from his body, drained from his soul.

“Ni, what’s wrong?” Zayn’s voice is concerned, though he can’t even begin to figure out why yet when his phone feels so _heavy_ in his hand.

Zayn’s arms are still wrapped around him when he clenches his phone in his hand, fingers curling protectively around it and pulling it close to his chest, despite the churning in his stomach that’s willing him to drop it, to catapult it away from his body.

“Niall?” Niall’s eyes zero in, re-focusing on what’s going on around him when he catches the end of his name, twisting to look into Zayn’s eyes, concern plastered in the chocolate of the orbs.  “What’s wrong?”

Niall opens his mouth to speak, but can’t even begin to formulate the words he wants, doesn’t even _know_ what words he wants, anyway.

Harry’s by his side not much later, pizza boxes in his arms as he wanders through into the kitchen, eyes happy before they land on the pair of them, worry coating the shining emerald as he takes in the pair of them.

“What’s wrong?  What’s happened?” Harry quickly crowds up in their space, fingers curled around Zayn’s hand as he flits his eyes between both Niall and Zayn, concerned expression on his face.  “Zayn?”

Zayn becomes more alert at the mention of his name, moving his eyes away from Niall’s to look into the worrisome pair of his boyfriend as he shrugs his shoulders sadly, keeping his hold tight around Niall’s shoulders.

“Niall,” Harry tries, stroking over the blonde boy’s arm softly to try and get his attention.  “What’s up?”

Niall’s cheeks become littered with a soft pink glow, eyes ducking down to look at his feet as he chews on his lip, hands still clenched around his phone, holding it as close to his heart as possible so he can feel the vibrations that may make or break him.

“Lou texted me,” Niall whispers, gentle smile on his lips as he runs his fingers over the lock button of his phone, teasing himself when the screen flashes on and off in his palm, illuminating Louis’ words against his skin.

Harry and Zayn share a look over Niall’s head, eyebrows knitted together in confusion as Niall stands in Zayn’s arms, looking as though he’s fallen off the side of the earth, drifting in limbo with a dreamy, far off look on his face.

“What’d he say?” Niall flushes at Harry’s question, ceasing to press the lock button on his phone so as to keep the words locked away for a little bit longer, to live in the blissful moment a while longer before it’s forced to shatter in the palm of his hand.

Zayn’s hands are a comforting weight around his shoulders, his hands dipping down to sit on the centre of his back, fingertips brushing down the line of his spine as Niall works out the words he wants to say; what he can say without his heart beating so erotically that he can barely breathe.

“That he liked what we did,” Niall smiles when Harry looks at him confused, continuing before Harry asks him any further questions, heart already starting to thunder in his chest, making his breaths short and laboured.  “When we kissed.”

Zayn’s hands stop their expedition up and down his spine then, as he pushes Niall slightly out of his arms, holding him at arm’s length, eyes meeting the shining blue of Niall’s.  “When he kissed you?”

Niall shakes his head, eyes twinkling as he licks over his lips, still tasting Louis there, regardless of the fact it’s been so long since their lips met, since their skin had touch in the most delicious sense.  “No, when I kissed him.”

“You kissed him?” Harry’s voice is unsure and raspy as he speaks, stepping away from Niall and Zayn to lean back against the doorframe of the kitchen, worry etched into his eyes as he holds his hands in tight fists around the frame.

Niall nods, smile starting to fade when he sees the look that’s on Harry’s face, the lack of enthusiasm that’s in his eyes, heart hammering for a different reason when his and Harry’s eyes meet across his kitchen.  “Yeah; why?”

“Nothing,” Zayn assures quickly, pulling Niall back into his arms, rubbing his hands down the length of Niall’s arms, pulling Niall’s attention away from Harry and into the joyous eyes of himself.  “So what’d he say then?”

Niall’s wide smile returns instantly the moment Louis’ name is flowing into the conversation again, making Zayn grin just as wide at his excitable blonde friend, watching Harry out of the corner of his eye as Niall looks love struck in front of him.

“It’s fine,” Zayn mouths to Harry when Niall turns away from him, happiness radiating from his bones as he goes all quiet and blushing when Zayn asks him about what happened, feeling much like a teenage girl, but falling in love with the way Niall’s all happy smiles and pink cheeks at the memory of Louis.

Harry shakes his head, an almost betrayed look in his eyes as he turns on his heels out of the room, dropping himself down onto the sofa in the living room with a huff that has Zayn’s chest tightening, regardless of Niall’s happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are of course my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	95. Chapter 95

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely don't know how to apologise for this chapter, it's pretty diabolical - get that long word right there, go me;)

Harry’s ears pick up on the excitement in Niall’s voice, the same happiness mirrored in the tone of Zayn’s as he asks question after question, all of which probably have Niall blushing to high heaven but grinning despite himself as he replies with a pleased lilt to his voice, intensifying his accent.

Harry bites down on his tongue to bite back a near growl at the pair of them in the kitchen acting like teenage girls when something this huge is happening; when this could potentially lead to disaster, that won’t be easy to fix.

Louis wasn’t an easy fix - still isn’t even fixed - Harry reminds himself glumly as he pulls his phone from his pocket, flicking through the pictures that he’s got stored on it, seeing the brightness of Louis’ smile on the screen, making something clench inside of himself when he realises just how long it’s been since he’s seen that smile, since he’s seen the boy that he calls his best friend.

Louis’ bruises come to the front of his mind then, the way they had sunk into his skin and left it pale and deathly, how his eyes had been rimmed with both red from his tears and black from his injuries and lack of sleep from waking up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, eyes wide and terrified as whimpers passed through his cut lips, reopening the gashes each and every time.

The huffs of breath and the breathy whispers as he tries to wake himself from his nightmares the backdrop to Harry’s thoughts, tattooed to his mind to plague every one of his thoughts.  The way Louis had woken up with his eyes wet and bloodshot, lined with tears as Harry holds him in his arms, trying to ignore the way Louis initially tenses in his arms, as if he doesn’t trust him.

How Louis had fallen from being the one who taught Harry how to fight for himself to not even being able to trust in those he’s known his whole life. 

]Just because of one person. 

One sick person who didn’t understand just how fragile trust is, and how once it’s broken, it’ll still hold the bend that caused it to snap, will never be perfect again, as hard as you try to reshape or paint over it.

How Louis’ trust has been ripped from him because of one selfish human’s desires to see Louis ruined, to see him a battered, bruised and beaten mess in his hands as he tore away the final pieces of humanity, leaving behind a shadow of what once was.

Harry grimaces when he thinks about the brutality that his friend has endured, how he slipped into the noose and was held there until he was on the brink of defeat, begging and pleading to be let go, to be given remorse until the words died in his throat, much like his soul, leaving behind the shell of his best friend.

The words flow through Harry’s mind faster than his mind can process, their vicious tone a continual buzz in his head as he stares aimlessly at the TV which they left on, glaring at the screen as he tries to calm the betrayal that’s simmering hot and heavy in his blood, both at Louis’ attacker and at the person he promised he’d never feel hate towards.

How Zayn can even begin to be _excited_ for this, how he has the lack of _decency_ to think about just how bad an idea this actually is; the shit storm that will be whipped up if this is allowed to continue and grown out of control.

He squints his eyes to hold in his anger, hands bunched into fists in his lap before he stands up to snatch a box of pizza off the kitchen counter, avoiding both Niall and Zayn’s eyes when the part to look across at him.

Then it hits him; Niall doesn’t know.

The gentle flush to Niall’s cheeks as he leans back against the counter opposite Zayn displays the pure boyish euphoria that’s coursing through his veins, grin wide and toothy as his eyes crinkle in the corners, phone still trapped in his hand as he strokes over the sides of the metal casings.

And that’s what he can imagine Niall treating Louis like; a precious gem that deserves nothing less than the best, to be the one in his life that would be the glue to fix all of his pieces back together again and hold him tight enough to never let him lose any part of himself ever again.

Harry stands in the doorway watching Niall, the blonde boy not even noticing him as he keeps his eyes on the electronic device that’s protected by his hands, as if he’s already holding Louis as close to his heart as physically possible.

The anger starts to boil down in Harry’s blood, leaving it bubbly and warm in his veins as he chews on his lip, wanting to voice his concerns but his heart wraps around his throat, forcing them to stay in his mind and away from Niall’s ears. 

He understands why his body is doing it, but can’t begin to handle what he’d do if he’s wrong about this, if he’s just retied Louis back in the noose.

“I’m happy for you, Nialler,” Harry says, leaning back against the frame, hiding his hands behind himself to try and conceal the shake of them from the two sets of eyes that have fallen on him.

Zayn watches him with a confused look in his eyes and an unsure tilt to his head as he looks between Harry and Niall, but Harry ignores it, keeping his full attention on the baby blue of Niall’s eyes.  “You are?”

“Course I am,” Harry grins, lips stretching despite the worry that’s sitting in the bottom of his heart.  “Promise me you’ll look after him though, yeah?”

Niall nods instantly, eyes soft before he’s tugging Harry into his arms, whispering his promise into the curly haired boy’s hair, but that does nothing to soothe the rhythmic nagging that pulses namelessly in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	96. Anticipation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, the length of the story is ridiculous.
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to the absolutely wonderful and brilliant and fabulous MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3
> 
> If you have any chapter title ideas, please leave the idea in a comment on said chapter:) I'll credit you for your ideas:)

Louis can barely sit still as he holds his phone in his lap, duvet wrapped tight around his body as his eyes stay transfixed on the bright pixels of his phone, reading over all of the words that are illuminated on the surface.

“I don’t want to, either.” Louis whispers, voice quiet as the cars outside of his apartment zoom past, letting themselves be known to his ears whilst his heart hammers in his chest, almost blocking out their throttling engines.

Niall’s words hit him hard as he takes them in, lets them sink into his skin until he can finally stop reading over the words to check he hasn’t read them wrong. 

He hasn’t.

Louis’ mind races with thoughts, mainly consisting of the blonde boy that’s got him all worked up and acting like a teenage girl, thumbing over his bandages and smiling at the care and precision that Niall had used to wrap them up; wincing when Louis did as he applied the antiseptic cream, as if it was affecting him as much as it had Louis.

The concern that had been sizzling like a raging fire in Niall’s eyes when he saw how uneasy Louis had been in the pub, how he’d ripped his attention away from his friends and over onto him, when he hadn’t even known him.

How Niall had pulled him in for a hug so tight that it had Louis gasping for breath but in the best way as he sank deeper into Niall’s arms, allowing himself to settle into someone else’s company but Zayn and Harry’s.

The texts that Niall sent at the most random times of the day making him laugh and giggle and smile despite himself when he read them, texting Niall back more or less instantly to make sure that he would be able to speak to the blonde boy for as long as possible before he had to go and work again.

He smiles at the memory of how they had more or less slotted into each other, barely bothering to care for anything other than each other as they stayed at Niall’s apartment, telling stories that had them grinning together and laughing at their teenage stupidity and such like. 

How Niall had slept on the sofa before being tugged by him into his bed; how he’d fallen back into Niall’s hold, Niall’s hands not feeling threatening as they’d run over the planes of his body, leaving pinpricks of a dazzling fire on his skin that had him sinking deeper into Niall’s touch.

The way Niall had nuzzled into his neck as he spoke when Louis has started to slip back off to sleep, eyes fluttering shut despite his attempts to keep them open, Niall moving closer to him so that Louis would still be able to hear the words he wanted before he dropped off into slumber.

Memories of how Niall had slotted their skin together effortlessly, as if there was nothing wrong with Louis, nothing to fear or shy away from, no problem with the press of skin against skin; and there hadn’t, Niall’s skin warm against his own as they he tried to sneak looks at the blonde boy.

How Niall’s cheeks had been littered in the peppering of a rosy blush when they’d pulled apart, strawberry lace still held in Louis’ mouth from where Niall had bitten off his end in shock, eyes wide as they had search his own eyes, looking for something within him.

Louis licks his lips, feeling Niall in the cracks and craters of his lips, chapped and bitten from worry as he snuggles up under his duvet, nose smushed in the pillow to try and breath in the scent of his own bed to stop the longing of having Niall’s sheets under his nose.

His body desperate to have the scent of the blonde’s wash power tickling his senses as Niall’s body held him close, fingertips tap, tap, tapping against the base of his spine, pulling out memories that Louis didn’t even know he had when pale fingers drum out a familiar song against his skin.

He whines in protest when he can’t seem to settle himself, rolling around in his sheets to try and get comfy, failing when his sheets rub him the wrong way, leaving his skin heated and taut against his bones as he fidgets to try and get comfortable.

His phone is on his bedside table when he reaches out his hand to it, body refusing to sleep and settle in his bed as he slings off his duvet, keeping it wrapped around his feet however, since he forgot to put on socks.

‘What does this mean?’ He types, waiting for a response that doesn’t seem to be coming as he sits up in anticipation for a good fifteen minuets, leaving him pouting as he pulls his sheets back up around him, laying on his side so that he can keep himself entertained by looking out of the window up at the dusting of stars twinkling high in the sky.

The harsh vibrations of his phone against his bedside table have him jumping out of his skin, thrusting his arm out of his cocoon of sheets to pull it into his hand, thumbing his lock button helplessly, eyes unfocused as they try to read Niall’s words.

‘What would you like it to mean, Lou?’

‘More than it probably should.’

Louis chews on his lower lip, mind filled to bursting with reasons why he shouldn’t be that blunt, that honest but he sends it off anyway, refusing to hold his phone in anticipation as he waits for Niall’s reply, pulling at his thumb nail to try and prevent himself from reaching for it and holding it in his hands and checking it for messages continually.

‘I’m happy to break the rules, every once in awhile.’

Louis’ heart stops in his chest, mind blacking out for a second as he re-reads the words and starts checking them again, reading far too excessively into the smiley face tacked at the end of the message, hunting down the deeper reason behind the message before he pinches himself, reminding himself he’s not a 14 year old girl.

‘Me too.’

He shuts his eyes then, excitement running through his veins, but refusing to turn his phone back on, not wanting the dream to stop before it’s even started; seeing it as tempting fate the longer he tries to live in the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	97. Confidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 150 kudos, I honestly cannot thank you all enough, it means the world to me<3 I love you all<3
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to the one and only beautiful, MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3

When Louis tugs his eyes open the next morning, he moves around his apartment robotically, hopping into the shower before tugging on clean clothes that he deems to be acceptable before brushing at his hair to make it look less like he hasn’t cut it for a month.

As he’s buttoning up the final buttons of his shirt, fingers beginning to ache due to the press of the plastic into his fingertips, he finally drops his eyes back onto his phone, the screen blank due to the fact it’s powered off.

He gnaws on his lower lip as he watches it, as if it could blow up any minute and admiring it from afar is the only way to guarantee his safety; maybe that’s not too far from the truth, however, he thinks, trying to keep his attention on buttoning up his shirt, making sure the buttons slide into the correct holes.

Niall’s texts jump to the front of his mind, making his teeth jab just that little bit harder into the chapped skin, shredding it into even smaller pieces as he thinks about them, how he could more or less imagine how they’d roll of Niall’s tongue if he was to say them.

How his Irish accent would curl around the words, stealing both Louis’ thoughts and breath as he tries to work out where the words that he’s caught onto fit within Niall’s sentences, due to the fact his excitement is coursing through his veins in heavy streams at the fact that Niall hasn’t run away, silencing some of his words, leaving Louis to breathlessly pick up the pieces, heart hammering in his chest.

He catches himself smiling towards his reflection in the mirror, fingers idle as they sit against the buttons of his shirt that are still not done, reminding of just what Niall does to him, the affect he has on him.

His heart doesn’t still in his chest, freezing his blood when he realises that, however, it instead pulses through his veins at such an alarming rate that he can feel the force of it in his ears, silencing the rattle of normally brain-rattling car engines outside of his apartment.

His hands begin to shake, not quite understanding when or why he began to be able to see Niall as something that isn’t threatening within his life, as someone that won’t hurt him. 

Cannot understand when he learnt to accept Niall as one of the people he can hold close, when he began to list Niall under the category that Harry and Zayn sit.

His head starts to hurt when he tries to think about it, how Niall has slipped so effortlessly into his life in the past month or so, from just being the blonde boy that turned up outside of Harry’s front door all those weeks ago to being the boy that Louis tries to change himself to suit.

Louis reaches for his phone just as he’s about to leave, piece of paper tucked in his jacket pocket with scribbled directions on it as he locks the door behind himself, setting off down the street to said building.

When he arrives, he sees the bright logo before he sees the front door, eyes searching for the entrance that Marie told him to go through, eyes scouring the large building helplessly as he tugs his lower lip between his teeth, throat clenching when a large group of people walk by him.

You can do this, Louis assures himself, keeping his head ducked so as to steady his breathing and keep people’s attention away from him. 

As the group walk by, eyes never leaving each other as they fall into the shop through the front entrance, Louis lets out a breath that he knew he was holding, but had no idea that his lungs could even contain.

He lifts his eyes when he feels alone outside, the winter sun starting to trickle though the soft cloud, pulling the fluffy whiteness out of the way sleepily, lighting Louis’ path to the door that Marie tried to describe to him.

He smiles when he walks towards it, smoothing down his clothing and running a hand through his hair self-consciously before he reaches out a hand to pull open the door, pulling open the door to his potential future before his hand is falling to his pocket, his phone vibrating inside of it.

‘Good luck on today, not that you’ll need it.  You’ll be brilliant:) Text me after to let me know how it goes? x’

Louis grins, sliding it back into his pocket, blush on his cheeks as he slips into the side door, feeling just that little bit more confident now that he has Niall’s words inscribed within his phone, especially with the addition of the small kiss on the end of it, reminding him of the gentle brush of their lips all those weeks ago.

He can do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you like to:)


	98. Anticipation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is rather long now, isn't it?;)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to the one and only, MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3 Love you<3

Niall’s on tender hooks the whole day; startling when Ed talks to him on their break, barely greeting his customers whenever they come to his station and fidgeting in his chair as he watches the clock on the far wall taunt him, hands getting stuck on each and every number they reach, clinging to them just to listen to Niall’s growls of frustration.

His face is set in a pretty much permanent frown as the day drags by, his normal excitement and enjoyment seeming to cease and die in his heart as he stumbles through the day, baring his teeth in annoyance with every mistake he makes.

“What’s wrong, mate?” Ed whispers in his ear when he slips past Niall’s checkout station, his eyes worried as he shows the same exhaustion Niall bets is on his mirrored on his own face, his eyes hollow in their sockets.

Niall cocks his head to the side, brain empty and vacant as he stares into Ed’s worried eyes, trying to find words to describe why he feels like _this_. 

His brows furrow when he can’t formulate the words he wants, doesn’t even know what words he wants, anyway, when it comes to describing the lack of energy in his veins, the defeat he feels inside of himself.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Niall says, voice not sounding as strong as he wants it to when he speaks, causing Ed’s brows to furrow, frustrated.

“Nothing?” Niall shakes his head, but Ed just bumps his fists against Niall’s shoulder, defeated, eyes sad yet understanding.  “You’d tell me if something was wrong though, yeah?”

Niall nods his head, breath catching in his throat at the look that’s in Ed’s eyes, hating the fact he put it there.  “Course I would,” Niall assures, swiping his hand along Ed’s forearm, fingertips dipping under the mass of bands and bracelets that encase them.  “Anyway, less about me, how’s Megan?”

Ed’s eyes turn into hearts then, coating them in a shiny far off look as he grins, lip caught between his teeth whilst a gentle blush litters his cheeks, voice stumbled yet heartfelt and adoring as he speaks of the girl that Niall is yet to put a face to, adoration in his voice.

His mind wanders when Ed continues talking about her, about how he’s never felt the way he does before, how strange yet lovely it is to feel like this, and Niall can’t help but agree, nodding along until their boss catches them, throwing them a disapproving look that has them scattering.

The shift seems to drag even harder when his boss hangs around his and Ed’s checkouts, looking across the shop floor from his position against the ends of their stations, as if he doesn’t trust them. 

Niall wouldn’t trust them either, had he been in his position.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, making him grimace when his boss looks him in the eye, as if he _knows_ that Niall’s phone has buzzed and he’s _certain_ that Niall’s going to read it.

The blonde, however, shies away, keeping his hands on the table top in front of himself to show that he’s not even attempting to look at his phone, despite the desperate need to; to thumb at the lock screen and pull open the message, lip caught between his teeth as he reads over the words.

His boss seems to sense his discomfort at the fact he’s left his phone in his pocket, moving just a step closer to Niall’s checkout station, subconsciously warning him not to look at the electronic device and as much as Niall wants to know what words are burning into his thigh, he needs this job, so he obliges his boss’ telepathic warning, keeping his clenched hands on his workstation to stop the temptation to peek at the words.

Niall sucks his lip into his mouth, however, biting down on it, frustrated, as he tries to keep his attention on his customers, his eyes flickering up to the clock above him to countdown the minutes until he can leave, until he can thumb open the message that’s got him so tightly bound.

Time seems to drag even more slowly when his boss stays near him, looking between Niall and Ed with unsure eyes as the pair of them work, trying to avoid his eyes and smiling just that little bit wider at their customers to try and seem as if their legs aren’t bouncing in anticipation to leave underneath their stations.

Niall’s up and out of his seat before Ed’s even logged out of his machine, when the clock finally slogs it’s way around to four o’clock, throwing his keys under the counter for the next worker to use to get into the till point, slipping through the small gathering of people that are blocking his way to the staff room.

Before he’s even shut the door behind himself he’s yanking his phone from his pocket, swiping at the screen to get it to open up and show him the message that’s been on his mind for a good hour and a half, the words bold against the pixels.

‘It went okay, I think?  Said she’ll call me and let me know if I get the job.’

Niall grins, cheeks aching as his lips pull them up into a wide smile that has his tongue pressing up against his teeth, heart hammering in his chest, stomach flipping just a little bit.

‘That’s ace!  You’ll get it – why would they give someone as good as you up!  So proud of you x’

He doesn’t even hesitate when he adds the kiss on the end, the need to feel it light Louis’ face in a tender blush outweighing the reservations he has with sending it off with his message, regardless of the fact he might be falling just a little too fast, but really, he has no experience with this sort of thing at all; he’s just riding the wave, letting it take him where it thinks he should go because he has no idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Check out my other work, if you'd like to:)


	99. Date Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow is the big 100. Wow.
> 
> Chapter title credit all goes to the one and only, MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh :)

Liam leans into Alex’s side as they walk to the cinema that night, hushed whispers shared between them in the cool air, hot breath twisting around their words as they walk.

“What would you like to see?” Alex asks as he pushes the door of the cinema open for Liam to go through, said boy blushing at the gesture before Alex’s hand is brushing against his again, trapping their fingers together.

“Oh,” Liam chuckles, ducking his eyes when he realises that they never actually discussed what they were going to _watch_ at the cinema, just that they were going.  “We didn’t really think this through, did we?”

Alex laughs along with him, pulling him towards the board that’s advertising each movie and the times that they’re to begin at, fingers warm around Liam’s cold ones.

“Who needs to plan this?  We can just stumble into any room and get shushed at by the people already watching,” Alex grins across at him when Liam slaps at his chest, telling him to not even think about it.  “So what shall we watch then?”

Liam darts his eyes across the board, trying to take in all of the titles that are displayed for him, trying to pull him in with their slick designs and minimalistic graphics.  He frowns, not really seeing anything that catches his attention.  “What would you like to watch?”

Alex shrugs his shoulders, smiling softly down at Liam with the few inches he has on the brown eyed boy.  “I don’t mind, it’s up to you, Li.”

Liam pouts, turning to face the dark haired boy, poking out his finger.  “It’s your turn to choose, I decided to come here, so you decide what we’re going to watch.”  Liam grins smugly at the pout on Alex’s lips, pressing his nose into the taller boy’s neck.  “Not my fault you made me choose, now you have to as well, it’s only fair.”

“I don’t like fair,” Alex huffs, running his eyes over the posters with more intent, teeth caught between his teeth as he scours over the movies that are on offer to them.  “Okay, I’ve decided, I’ll be right back, just let me get the tickets.  It’s a surprise.”

Liam moves to follow the taller boy, but is frozen in place when Alex’s lips press against his softly, slowing his mind considerably.  “I’ll be right back,” Alex assures as he pulls away, stroking his thumb over Liam’s cheek before he’s pulling away, digging his hand into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

Alex’s back - fingers entwined with his own - before he can even contemplate moving, legs feeling like jelly as he stands, cheeks flushed whilst he licks at his lips; tastes Alex on his tongue when he swipes at them.  “Do you want anything to eat?”

Alex’s soft voice pulls Liam out of his daydream, the taller boy’s eyes and smile as soft as his voice as he tugs Liam towards the snack bar when his stomach rumbles, making him laugh.  “So you are hungry,” He giggles whilst Liam just ducks his head, cheeks flushed, letting Alex pull him across the foyer, hand snuggled in his own.

“What would you like, Li?” Alex asks, eyes trained solely on Liam’s as he asks, swinging their hands absent-mindedly between them as the girl behind the counter gives them doe eyes, watching them across the mass of sweets and goodies laid out in front of her.

“I don’t mind, it’s up to you,” Liam smiles, heart skipping happy in his throat when Alex’s thumb starts to rub at his hand, skin soft yet rough against his own, sending thrilling sensations down his spine.

Alex shakes his head.  “Nope, I decided last time, remember?” Alex smirks when the realisation falls into Liam’s eyes before continuing.  “It wouldn’t be fair if I decided now as well, so you have to; it’s only fair.”

Liam pouts at the fact his own words are being used against him, but he sighs anyway, looking over the food quickly as he tries to decide what he wants before Alex’s ducking down to his ear, whispering hot over the shell of it.  “We could share, if you wanted to?”

Liam nods, not trusting his voice as he reaches for a bag of minstrels from the counter before looking up at Alex with a glint in his eyes that Alex seems to recognise.  “Salted or sweet?”

Alex smirks before he pulls Liam up against his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as he asks the girl behind the counter for half salted, half sweet with an easy grin. 

“It’s a surprise this way,” Alex chuckles when Liam turns in his hold, eyebrow raised at him before he whisks Liam into the theatre, having paid for their snacks behind Liam’s backs, the brown eyed boy complaining about not paying for anything before Alex silences him with a kiss.

He’s quite good at that.

Liam’s oblivious to what it is their watching when they slip into the theatre, the lights still on so as to guide them to their seats in the empty room and allow them to spread their food around themselves without spilling any of it.

“No one’s here with us,” Liam notes when the lights go off and the film titles start to roll on the screen, but there’s no hint for as to what Alex’s brought them tickets to see.  “Did you pick a rubbish film, or something?”

Alex shakes his head, picking a piece of popcorn from the box that’s sat between their seats and chewing on it, smiling pleasantly.  “Salted,” Liam rolls his eyes, reaching for a piece, grinning when he gets a salted piece also.  “Anyway, it’s a good film, now shush, Liam.”

Liam roll his eyes, focusing them on the dark screen to try and figure out what it is they’re watching until the familiar symbol flashes up in the clouds.  “Batman,” Liam breathes, shocked, looking across at Alex who’s smiling wildly in his seat.

“Is that okay?” Liam nods, head bobbing excitedly as he leans across the seat to press a fleeting kiss to Alex’s cheek before pulling away with adoring eyes at the screen. 

“Shall have to take you to see Batman more often, if that’s the reward I get,” Alex chuckles before Liam shushes him, making him laugh harder before he composes himself and whispers a heartfelt sorry, breath so hot against his ear that he forgets to watch for a short while, trying to compose his breath whilst Alex just smiles across at him.

They sit and watch the film, fingertips entwined before they pull away, reaching for their snacks of drinks, occasionally throwing out potential plot changes that make each other laugh harder than ever before, falling into each other due to their giggles.

“Minstrel?” Alex asks as he pulls the packet from between their seats, whispering and wincing at the sound of his voice when Liam turns to look at him, eyes still trying to look at the screen.

Liam nods, keeping his eyes on Alex instead of the film when he sees the happy smile leak onto Alex’s face, pulling his lips up into a blissful smile.

Before Liam knows it, the Minstrel is pressed against his lips, the chocolate starting to melt due to the heat of his skin, letting the flavour dip into the crevices of his lips. 

Alex smiles at him, gesturing for him to open up when Liam looks at him confused before he obliges, taking the chocolate into his mouth and letting it melt on his tongue.

“Thank you,” Alex smiles before turning his attention back on the film, squeezing at Liam’s hand when the music becomes more dramatic, as  if he’s one of the people being portrayed on screen, as if he’s living right in the moment, can feel the adrenaline gushing through his veins, taste the blood on his tongue.

Liam grins knowing he’s not the only one, before he presses a Minstrel to Alex’s lips, his fingers teasing Alex’s lips subconsciously as Alex sucks in the chocolate, rolling it on his tongue.

His body tenses then, keeping his hand near Alex’s mouth before he lowers it to his lap, fingers feeling as if they’re on fire as he remembers just how smooth Alex’s lips had been against his fingertips, how gentle they are when they’re pressed against his own.

“You ready to go, Li?”

When the lights came back on and the film ended, Liam will never know as he turns his head towards Alex’s, his blue eyes capturing the light and making them shimmer in their sockets.  “Yeah, I’m ready,”

He goes to push himself up and out of his seat before Alex’ reaching a hand out towards him, Liam accepting and letting Alex pull him from his seat before they head out of the cinema doors, popcorn and Minstrel’s still in their hands as they head down the pavement.

“Did you enjoy the film?” Alex asks as he offers the box of popcorn towards Liam as they walk, the night sky dark as it hangs above them, stars dancing across its inky surface.

“Course I did,” Liam assures, taking Alex’s hand in his own as he munches on the popcorn, the salted and sweet pieces tangling in his mouth, strangely not tasting too bad.  “This stuff tastes horrible after awhile,” He comments after the tastes linger in his mouth just a little bit too long, leaving a bad aftertaste on his tongue.

“That’s why you’re supposed to eat it piece by piece,” Alex laughs, throwing his arm over the back of Liam’s shoulders, pulling him closer into his side as he takes a piece from the box.  “It’s better that way, doesn’t leave a funny after taste.”

Liam nods, eating his popcorn piece by piece as they edge closer to his apartment, their footsteps falling slower the closer they get to his building.

“So, tonight was good,” Liam says as they come to a stop outside of his apartment building, streetlights around them casting an orange glow over the dark strands of Alex’s hair.

“Yeah?” Liam nods, standing on his toes before he presses a kiss to Alex’s mouth, the touch lingering but sweet when neither of them tries to deepen it, Alex’s hands coming to fall on his waist.

“Yeah,” Liam assures, pulling a little away so that he can slide his hand in Alex’s, moving them a step closer to the door of his building.  “You wanna come up?”

Alex shakes his head, looking so sincerely at Liam that his heart hammers, beginning to doubt himself as he pulls away from Alex’s grip, not wanting to hear the words that he knows are coming, _how this isn’t supposed to grow into something as serious as this,_ before Alex’s reaching out for him, hands coming to encircle his wrists.

Liam keeps his eyes on the ground when Alex doesn’t let go, keeping his hold tight around his wrists before Liam’s lifting his head to peer into Alex’s honest eyes.

“I don’t want to come up, Li, because I don’t want to do that yet.” Alex’s thumb rubs over Liam’s wrist, drawing circles in his skin as he goes.  “I don’t want to take advantage of you or anything; I care about you too much.”

Liam’s heart flips in his chest as he walks into Alex’s arms when Alex lightly tugs him into himself, the strong muscles enveloping him and pulling him in.  “Plus it’s early days yet, I personally don’t need to sleep with you to know that I like you, I know that already,” Alex presses his lips against Liam’s hair, leaving a subtle kiss on the strands. “That’s just a bit of a bonus that’ll hopefully come later on.”

Liam huffs out a laugh against Alex’s chest as said boy kisses at his head.  “I like you too,”  Alex’s hands tighten around his waist as he speaks, lifting his head to peck at Alex’s jaw, smiling against it before Alex is kissing him like he means it, stealing the breath from Liam’s lungs at the press of their lips.

He smiles as he pulls away, waving a goodbye and smiling as he heads towards what Liam can only guess is the direction of his home, until he’s turning on his heels, running back towards Liam as he hands him the Minstrels packet that’s tucked under his arm.  “Your Minstrels, Li.”

Liam takes them wordlessly, words trapped in his throat when Alex drops a final kiss to his lips before he’s just a silhouette in the distance, lighted by the shine of the stars in the sky and the orange glow of the streetlights above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like to:)


	100. Unwanted memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this what reaching chapter 100 is like, huh? It's nice:) 
> 
> Anyway, again, another MASSIVE thank you to any and all the people that have stuck around for this or have helped me, either through just being there as a Silent Reader, commenting, leaving Kudos - the works! I'm so happy that I can share this with you all and that you've stayed throughout the good and the bad that this story has lived through! I love you all<3
> 
> I hope you enjoy it<3
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh - happy 100th chapter day:)

Louis can barely keep his smile from his face when he reads Niall’s text, walking up the stairs to his apartment, the steps creaking sadly under his feet with each movement.

He nibbles at his lower lip, trying to figure how to reply to Niall as he slides his key into the lock, swinging the door open wide enough for himself to slot through.

He and Niall have been texting continually for nearly a whole month, yet Louis still feels it necessary to think before he types; some kind of reservation that he can’t seem to rid from his bones stuck within him, the tugs of warning inside himself coming to light again.

His attention, however, quickly cascades from the phone in his hand to the one on the small side table opposite his TV, the vigorous metallic ringtone of it startling him as he walks inside his flat.

Louis slides it off of the hook instantly, pulling it up to his ear, smile still placed upon his lips from Niall’s text as he waits for a noise on the other end of the line, he goes to put it back on the cradle, just static transpiring down the line until a tinny voice seeps from it. 

“Is this Mister Tomlinson?”

Louis nods in response, before realising the person won’t see him.  “Yes, it is.”  He slides his mobile into his pocket as he leans against the wall, waiting for the man on the end of the line to speak some more, mind far off as he thinks of how to reply to Niall, crossing out invisible text ideas in his mind as he goes.

“Hello, Mister Tomlinson, this is Detective Ben Thatcher from East London Police Station, I’m calling in response to a report you filed a short while back,” Louis’ heart stops dead in his chest, but Ben doesn’t seem to notice and continues.  “I was wondering if we could talk?”

A chill races down Louis’ spine, spikes of red hot fear prickling his skin, sending his skin out in goose bumps, hairs standing on end as he tries to swallow the bile that’s rising thick and fast up his throat.

He squeaks out a noise as he tries to catch his breath, voice hoarse and broken as it gets trapped in his throat, the demons of his mind coming out to play and torment his senses when they’re let out of their prison in the back of his mind, to run riot through his soul.

He can’t do this, he’s kept these thoughts away for so long, kept them buried in his head so far into the back of his mind that he only stumbles upon them when he’s either looking for them or his mind wanders with nothing else to do.

“Mister Tomlinson?” The police officer’s words are concerned, but Louis can barely focus on that fact when his pulse is trying to drive itself out of his skin, veins throbbing against his flesh, as if trying to break through it as his heart continues rattling in his chest as his lungs concave in on themselves, leaving him breathless like he’s never felt.

“I’m here,” He croaks, fingers digging into the wood of the side table, fingernails burrowing into the grain of the wood, leaving crescent shaped marks in the surface and driving chips of wood up his nails as he clenches his eyes shut, vision pitch black, but all that does is allow the images to play out in front of his eyes, forcing his voice to curl around startled whimpers.

“Would that be okay then?  I understand this is a very traumatic event for you,” Louis snorts out a breath, the best laugh his can conjure up when his chest is bound so tightly, ribs seemingly ripping into the parachutes of his lungs. “It’s okay if it’s not, we just need to get some more evidence for the investigation.”

“More evidence?” Louis whispers, forcing his eyes open so as to keep the menacing images away from his eyes but they’re still running rampant in his mind, poisoning it with their heart wrenching memories.

“Yes, sir,” Detective Thatcher says, voice professional but even Louis can here the regret in it as he speaks.  “I’m sorry, but we’re missing a few pieces of information that may potentially be vital to the investigation, but if you’re not up for it, that’s okay; just let us know if there ever comes a time when you are.”

 _If there ever comes a time when you are_ , Louis swallows the whimper that’s sitting on his tongue, fingers curling into the sleeves of his neatly pressed shirt he put on this morning for his interview; for the first step to his forever.

“I’m ready,” Louis squeezes his eyes shut as he speaks, knowing that he has to confront his demons to be able to defeat them; can’t just sit on the sidelines if he wants to make this go away.  “I’m ready.”

“You are?” Louis nods again, once again forgetting that the police officer cannot see him, but confirming his acceptance again verbally, voice more timid than he’d like it to be, but Detective Thatcher just continues on.  “Well, if you say you’re ready, then stop by the station any time you like and we’ll discuss this then.  I look forward to this, Louis, to seeing the bastard put away as much as you do.”

“Yeah,” Louis whispers around a tight smile before the detective is ringing off, saying he’ll see Louis soon and that he should ask for him directly when he goes down to the station so that they can get this sorted as soon as possible. “Thank you.”

He’s pulled up his mum’s contact card on his phone before he can think any more of it, his home phone still in his other hand as he presses call on his mobile, the dial tone shrill and loud in the air around him before he hears the jingle of his mother’s voice in his ear and her excited scream followed by four other girlish squeals and giggles.

He’s going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	101. Your silence breaks me more than your words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so meet chapter 101; like room 101 or 101 Dalmatians, you're choice;)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh :)

Niall’s left in the dark for a full week and a half, leaving sweeping glances across the supermarket each day, eyes trying to find a head of messy brunette hair and shocking blue eyes; but he comes up short each and every time.

He taps at his phone repeatedly, bordering on obsessively, each and every time his mind is allowed to wander and has nothing else to do to keep himself occupied, Louis’ previous texts more or less his permanent destination each time he unlocks his phone.

He types out multiple texts - all saved as drafts or swiftly deleted – with Louis’ name on the top of them all with the same meaning but with different words; _have I done something wrong?_

Ed notices that his mood begins to worsen each day, Niall’s normally happy smiles replaced by bored, glum looks and frowns that leave wrinkles around his mouth and eyes, the application of fake smiles on his lips whenever Ed questions him about it until his emotions cannot handle the prophetic grins anymore, and stops asking him.

Liam watches the coffee shop door each and every day without fail when he’s on his lunchtime shift, jumping out of his skin each and every time the bell above the door jingles, before Alex’s wrapping arms around his waist, coffee on his breath as he tells Liam the same thing, _he must just be busy, Li, give him time,_ kissing the frown from his lips.

Zayn texts Niall about meeting up for coffee on Wednesday during their lunch break so that they can just hang out since they haven’t seen each other for ages and they need some time to catch up again, just the pair of them.

Niall responds not much later, saying that he’s skint and can’t afford to pay to go out for lunch, but that he should be able to go out later in the week when he gets his pay cheque and that he misses him as well, misses Harry too.

The plan’s that Niall had set up with Harry and Zayn fall through however, the blonde bailing, saying he doesn’t feel up to going out that Friday and that they’ll do it some other time. 

They both agree to rearrange and just get on with their lives that night, snuggling into each other on Harry’s sofa as Friday drifts into Saturday and their newly arranged plans come ever closer, until Niall texts them informing them he can’t go out, yet again, because he’s been booked in for a late shift.

Zayn eyes his phone suspiciously before he’s typing in the supermarket’s website, looking up their opening times whilst Harry eyes him confused on the other end of the sofa.

Zayn growls out a curse before he’s showing Harry the screen, the words sinking in as Zayn wanders off to get their coats from the front door, slipping his shoes back on whilst he goes, calling over his shoulder that he’s off to see what’s up.

He and Harry trudge up the stairs of Niall’s building before they knock on the door, standing out in the corridor for a good five minutes, before Zayn starts to bang just that little bit harder on the wood, his frustration and confusion getting the better of him.

Their ears pick up at the sound of shuffling behind the door, the movement of a lock being undone and a key hitting the wooden sideboard behind Niall’s door before it’s being pulled open slowly, Niall hidden partially behind it.

Zayn pushes himself through the door roughly, Harry following behind him carefully as Niall sighs in defeat, dropping down onto the sofa as Harry and Zayn move around him, turning on the lights and switching on the kettle to prepare drinks.

Harry sits opposite him in the small chair that’s across the other side of the room, perched on the end of it as he offers Niall a soft smile, which the blonde returns before Zayn’s pressing a hot mug of tea into his hands.

Zayn’s eyes are wide and worried as Niall studies them, pulling his lower lip between his teeth, despite the fact it has been ripped raw and it hurts to even run his tongue across its battered surface.

They sit in a tense silence for a while as they just watch each other, Niall’s eyes flickering between Harry and Zayn as the curly haired boy does the same, whilst Zayn’s attention stays focused purely on him, eyes never wavering.

Niall shrinks under Zayn’s gaze as much as he does his words, trying to figure out how to explain why he lied to him without sounding petty or immature, but he can’t so he stays silent, Zayn’s ever increasing frustration lapping at him, voice becoming harsher with every word.

Harry tries to keep Zayn calm, sensing Niall’s unease to talk and attempts to keep Zayn as relaxed as possible, telling him that Niall will have had a reason, that he’s not done any harm, before Zayn goes wide eyed, temper rising as he announces how he thought _something was wrong_ , how he felt as if he had _lost his best friend_ and felt _helpless_ because Niall’s _not been letting him in_.

Niall sinks into himself at the words that Zayn uses, senses how much pain they have actually caused him to say, how much it has hurt him to experience the rejection again from a person he’s handed his trust to piece by piece over the years.

“Something’s wrong with Lou,” Niall whispers as Zayn takes a breath from his worried rant, his face red and eyes starting to turn glossy in their sockets, breaking the reservation that Niall’s got about his words, shattering it into tiny pieces.

“I’ve done something wrong, but I don’t know what and it’s killing me,” His own blue eyes turn cloudy with tears that he refuses to let fall, lifting his head towards the ceiling to stop them from cascading down his cheeks.

“He hasn’t text me for over a week and a half and I don’t know why, I have no idea what I’ve done wrong.” He forces a lung full of air down his throat, exhaling slowly so as to keep his shaky voice at bay.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never done this before and I don’t understand what I’ve done _wrong_ and I want to know,” His voice cracks then, but he sucks in another breath, tries to keep his weak sobs in his throat.  “I need to know what I’ve done and how I can fix it, Zayn.”

“I need to know what to do, but I don’t.  I just don’t and it hurts, it hurts so badly and I don’t know what to do anymore.” He waves his hands around him, no direction in mind as his emotions take over his actions. 

“I don’t know what I’ve broken and I don’t know how to fix it, and it’s _killing_ me.”

He’s swept up into a hug before he’s able to continue, the words dying in his throat when a pair of strong arms wrap around him, allowing him to shed his tears against warm skin and suck in harrowing breaths against soft cotton.

“I don’t know what to do, Zayn,” He whispers, lips hitting the skin that’s pressed up against his face as fingers draw comforting circles into his skin, calming him down and starting to slow the hot trickles of tears that are descending down his cheeks.

“You’ve not done anything wrong, Nialler,” A rough voice whispers against the sweaty hair that’s matted against his forehead, hands twirling patterns into his skin as the strands of hair are wiped from his face, Harry’s emerald eyes meeting his own as his arms stay tight around his waist.  “Nothing, absolutely nothing.”

Niall nods, slowly, sucking his lips into his mouth as he feels another regiment of tears want to seep from his eyes, ducking his face back into Harry’s chest as he lets his heartbreak tumble down his face, painting road maps of sadness along his skin. 

“Sorry about your shirt,” He hiccups into Harry’s chest, receiving a rumble of a laugh from above him when he does, smiling damply into Harry’s shirt when Harry runs his fingers through his hair.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, you hear me?  You’re fine and Louis’ fine, trust me.” He scratches his fingers bluntly across Niall’s head as he remembers how Louis’ hot tears had felt as they soaked into his shirt, through to his skin, leaving a hole in his heart with every droplet.  “He’s not broken; you’ve fixed him more than you’ll ever know, Niall.  You’ve fixed him so well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	102. Our progress is burned, we're back in square one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning for homophobic language, that is all purely for the plot line as I am 100% against homophobia; they're no different than the rest of us and usually, they turn out to be the best of us<3
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to the one and only MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh - you're the best of us<3

They settle Niall down under the thickness of his duvet and hidden in the softness of his plump pillows not that much later, setting his alarm for him when his eyelids start to flutter shut the moment he’s swallowed by his sheets, having started to doze in Harry’s arms not much earlier.

Harry watches Niall from the doorway of his bedroom as Zayn walks around the flat, making sure all the windows are shut and all electronics are off because he _knows what Niall’s like_ and more or less bets that there is at least one thing that’s not secure or shut down for the night yet. 

Niall’s lips are set into a soft line, his eyes crinkling as he breathes lightly into the air, the strands of hair that have fallen over his forehead blowing up when the hot breaths billows through them.

Niall starts to fidget as the minutes tick by, twisting himself in his sheets as he makes small noises in the back of his throat, stretching his arm out from under himself as he reaches for his bedside table, eyes squinting open before they closed again and his arm’s being tucked back under the cotton of his sheets, phone trapped between his sleepy fingers.

Harry watches as he tucks the device up against his chest, his fingers tight on the cool metal body of the phone as he ducks his head, chin concealing it from view as a content smile settles on his lips and his body stops fidgeting in the sheets, seemingly settled.

Zayn’s arms wrap around his waist then, pulling his attention away from the sleeping blonde and over to the chocolate eyes of his boyfriend as he tucks his head over Harry’s shoulder, kissing behind his ear. 

“I was right, he left the bathroom window open,” Harry rolls his eyes, grinning despite himself when he hears the happiness in Zayn’s voice at being right, turning his head to roll his eyes at the smaller boy.  “You ready to go, Haz?”

He nods, sliding his hand down the doorframe to curl it around Zayn’s hand, turning around in the doorway to follow Zayn out towards the front door, glancing back at the dosing boy that had broken in his arms mere moments before.

The cool night air is like a whip against Harry’s skin, forcing him to bury his head in the collar of his jacket and tuck himself more closely against Zayn’s side as they wander down the street, the night passing by around them as drunkards stumble around them, falling into kebab shops and down alleyways, trousers often around their ankles and skirts lifted up before they’re shrouded in the shadows.

They both eye each other with a knowing smirk as Harry presses a kiss to Zayn’s forehead, whispering words in his ear that have the smaller boy blushing around him, pushing at his chest playfully. 

Harry laughs out a joyful cackle that bounces off of the houses and buildings that surround them as he wraps his arms around Zayn, his hands careful as they wrap around his waist, swinging him around in a circle as they walk.

Zayn laughs, telling Harry to put him down with a grin, pushing at him once again when the taller of the two laughs out loud, attracting attention from the people around them.

“Fucking fags!”  One calls, beer bottle trapped between two of his fingers as he stuffs his cigarette into his mouth, breathing in the smoke as if it’s his only way of living, and maybe it is, but Harry doesn’t care, especially not when Zayn tenses up next to him, easy smile cascading from his lips and dying down by Harry’s feet.

“Fucking cock suckers; makes me sick,” The lanky male pulls his girlfriend under his arm, her dress exposing more than she probably knows as she slurps back a mouthful of vodka straight from the bottle.

“Bet your families are proud,” The woman cackles, eyes vicious and rimmed with smudged eyeliner that makes her look like a tramp.  “Who wouldn’t be with gays for sons!”

Harry glares across at them, pulling Zayn into his side and walking them just a little bit faster across the pavement so as to leave the cackles of drunken laughter and crude comments behind, but Harry can already feel the emotions flaring through Zayn’s veins, like a raging fire that’s burning away all of the progress he’s made, yet again.

Harry kisses at Zayn’s head, pulls him closer still and Zayn just lets him, body plaint and loose as Harry walks them through the town, trying to keep them as far away from pubs as he can, sneaking them the long way round to avoid feeling Zayn break that little bit more beside him.

Zayn tucks closer to his side when they pass a group of rowdy people, his hand tightening around Harry’s own before he’s pulling away, sliding his hand into his pocket and moving just a few inches away from the taller boy until they’ve past and he’s once again tucked into Harry’s side, breathing heavily.

His chest hurts when Zayn’s hand doesn’t return to sit in his palm, but he doesn’t question it, feeling the unease in the air around Zayn as they walk, the music of clubs and pubs beginning to die in their ears the further away they walk.

As they turn onto the road which leads them to the parting between their neighbourhoods, Zayn still hasn’t slipped his hand back into his own and that hurts, it really does, but he understands, he really does, so when Zayn smiles sadly at him, squeezing his hand before turning to head down the road in the direction of his house, Harry just lets him go, saying he’ll see him later and that he loves him.

He doesn’t get a reply, and maybe that hurts a little bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers - I love to hear your lovely voices<3


	103. I'll follow my heart, it knows me better than I know myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to say that this story has over 7,000 hits and wow, you never fail to amaze me. I love you all so much for this<3
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh :)

Louis stays away from London for over two weeks, his mum giving him increasingly worried looks behind her warm smile the longer he stays, before he scarpers away from his childhood house back to the urban jungle he now classes as home.

His flat is as messy as it was when he left it, but there still hangs the small Christmas card that Harry and Zayn had delivered just before he had left for Doncaster, on the small table by the door, the card crisp and fresh and bright in the dinginess of his apartment.

He lowers his bag to the floor of his living room, reaching his hands inside of it to pull out the gifts that had been handed to him on Christmas morning, his eyes bleary and unsure as he had taken them one by one from each of his sisters, shaking the boxes lightly as he lifted them into his lap, so as to try to guess what they concealed inside, like the six year old he really is.

His hand meets Lottie’s present first, a crisp Stone Roses shirt that sits just a little bit too loose on his shoulders now, would have fitted perfect just a few months ago, but he grins down at it anyway, smoothing out the creases as he lowers it onto the cushion of the sofa behind him to keep it clean.

Phoebe’s present is next, the plastic of the case cool against his fingers as he eyes the cover of the ‘Killers’ album, running his finger over the spine with an affectionate smile when he sees half of the price ticket is still attached to the back.

The gift tag is still attached to Daisy’s when he pulls it free from his clothes that are surrounding it inside of his bag, the loud and bright ‘Merry Christmas Louuu!’ in her cursive scrawl making the corners of his eyes crinkle as he turns the ball in his hands, savouring the feel of soft leather against his palms.

He places all of his gifts on the sofa out of harm’s way before he’s digging through his clothes to reveal Fizzy’s present, the corners of the Manchester United annual a little bit crooked as he flips through it, staring amazed at all of the lads that are living their dreams emblazoned across the smooth pages.

He leans back against the sofa like a small child, his head tucked in his annual as he reads about all of the players, about what has happened at the club and so on since the last annual was published, and he can’t help but be taken in by the big words about how it’s a _dream come true_ to play for the team.

His mind wanders to what it would be like, to be able to live your dream and know that you could do something, that there’s nothing holding you back from being the best that you can be, only a lack of air inside of a ball of leather preventing you from seeing what it’s like to do what you love.

Louis flicks through the pages carefully as he reads, trying to keep the annual as well kept as possible as he continues to read, until he reaches the end and he’s once again Louis Tomlinson, living in a dark and dingy flat in London.

He tilts his head back against the sofa again, eyes looking lazily up at the mould that’s starting to seep through the ceiling, leaving a smattering of green dots on the off-white of the ceiling, the plaster starting to crack down the length of his living room above him.

The buzzing of his phone is what pulls him from his assessment of his ceiling, his eyes starting to become hooded as the day passes on around him, yet again, before he’s reaching lazily up onto the table by the sofa where he abandoned his phone before he set off for Doncaster.

The screen is bright as it shines into his eyes, making his eyes flutter closed and peek at the new message through the squinted cracks he’s formed in his eyelids.

Harry’s contact card is highlighted on his phone in front of the list of missed calls and texts that he’s apparently received, the numbers totalling to well over 40 when combined.

He scrolls through the masses of missed calls, his eyes spotting Harry’s and Zayn’s numbers in the lists multiple times over the last few weeks as well as two from Niall, dated back to the Thursday after he left for Doncaster.

He stares at them long and hard before he’s bringing up his messages, reading through the jumble of words from his friends.

‘Louu, hope you’re okay, missed your face!  Text me back – H’

‘Louuuuuuu, you stranger, text me back – H’

‘I’m coming over, let me in.  I’ve got cake – H’

‘Don’t be an idiot, Lou, let me in. – H’

‘Twat. – H’

‘Where are you?  I miss my best friend<3 – H’

‘Lou, I’ll call your mother. – H’

‘If I had her new number, I’d call your mother.  You idiot, didn’t send it to me :( - H‘

His eyes scan over the next set of Harry’s texts, the insults becoming more and more Harry-esque the deeper he goes, reading over them with a gentle, affectionate smile on his lips for his best friend as he types out an apology.

‘I went back to Doncaster, sorry, left my phone here.  Hope you had a good Christmas, Haz! :)’

Zayn’s messages come up next, his messages a mixture of texts he’s sent and ones that Harry has obviously stolen his phone to send, apologies following all of the ones not written by him.  Louis smiles down at them as he reads them, the admiration that Zayn has for his best friend seeping through, even in the subtleness of his texts.

‘Have you got a call about the job yet?  Bet you’ve got it already, they’re just leaving you in suspense.  Text me :) x’

Louis’ breath catches as he reads Niall’s message, of how the blonde had actually _cared_ enough to text him again when Louis hadn’t bothered to reply to his first text, just left his phone by his front door as he escaped to his mother’s.

‘I agree, it is scone, not scone ;) x’

‘Hope you have a good Christmas, Lou x :)’

They’re the only texts that he has from Niall and he feels a little bit sick when he realises they were all sent when Niall would have been on his lunch break, doing what Louis had told him and not texting during his shift at work.

‘Have I done something wrong, Lou?’

His heart breaks as he reads it over, not caring for the other messages from people wishing him a happy birthday or merry Christmas or even a happy new year, just taps his finger against the call button by Niall’s name before ending it before it even connects, heart heavy in his chest when he realises he can’t speak, can’t voice the words he needs nor type them in a text.

His heart sits heavy on the back of his tongue but he swallows it down, clenching his eyes shut when he starts to feel a bit dizzy at the thought of what he’s going to do, but he bites at his tongue, pinches his wrists.  He’s got to do it.

“New year, new Lou,” He whispers before he pushes himself to his feet, heart hammering so hard it feels like it trying to spring free from his chest, trying to drag him towards his front door, but he doesn’t stop himself, just follows the pull of his heart, because that’s the only thing he can trust right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	104. Nothing's wrong, we're so much better now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is rushed and I don't like it and I genuinely don't know where this even came from...
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3

Niall’s asleep on his sofa before the clock even reaches seven, the sun having set long before he’d even started walking home from his shift at the supermarket, depressing him further at their lack of snow from the winter season, January playing out in front of him and offering nothing more than frosty mornings and bone-numbing coldness.

His mind’s starting to bob into and out of sleep as the night continues to trickle past him, his eyes opening to see bleary images of the cheap programme playing out onscreen in front of him before they’re being mixed in with the darkness of the backs of his eyelids and the vivid images that are littering his dreams.

The rapping of knuckles against his door is what lulls him from sleep, eyes still barely opened to anything more than slits as he buries his head in the sofa cushions, keeping his breathing quiet so that he doesn’t have to get up and be pulled from his slumber if the person who knocked hears him.

The apartment falls silent after the first rap, the TV that’s playing out in front of him muted - thanks to better judgement when he’d woken up earlier – and the only sound inside of the apartment his muted breathing as he stuffs his face against the material of his sofa.

He hears a gentle huff from outside the door, his ears suddenly alert when his eyes decide they want to stay open and his mind urges him to stay awake and take in everything there is to see. 

He groans in mild frustration at himself.

He peeks an eye open towards his front door, his shoes spread haphazardly around it, as if blocking anyone from entering it.  He likes that idea, limbs numb from sleep but brain wide awake in his skull, messing with his body as he wills himself to drop back to sleep.

The grain of his door looks almost symmetrical he realises as he continues to transfix his attention on it, eyes trained on the thick wood and ears wired in to hearing the noises that are outside of it, keeping him from letting his body fall back into unconsciousness.

Niall plays with his fingers as he just watches the door, making no move to get up and open it, even when he can’t get back to sleep, something within him just telling him to leave it, whilst something else keeps him wired to the door and demanding him to find out what’s hidden behind it.

He frowns at himself, rolling over on the sofa so that he’s laid on his side so that he can look towards the door, the TV nor the ceiling interesting him anymore as his mind races through all of the possible people or things that could be behind the door.

Probably Liam, he thinks as he picks at his fingernails, since he hasn’t made any effort to see the brown eyed boy in the last week and a half.

Or maybe it’s Zayn, just checking in to see if he’s alright and not drowning in a pool of his own tears, he tips his lips in a scowl at the mere thought of that, of letting himself get to that stage.

It could be Harry.  The voice inside of his mind sounds just as unsure as he feels, since it’s unlikely that Harry would have come on his own without Zayn and he’s pretty sure he can only hear one set of lungs pulling in and exhaling air outside of his door.

Ed?  His mind tries but he shakes that thought away also, remembering how he’d said he was going out with Megan later that night after they’d both finished work; highly unlikely to be him.

His mind drags through the list of people who could potentially be hidden behind his door, brain zooming through all of the possibilities in mere seconds before his eyes widen comically and he watches the door, unsure.

The blue of his irises are wide against the white’s of his eyes as he watches under the door to see if there’s a shadow, to check if there’s still anybody out there or if he’s just gone delusional and he’s made it all up.

His doubts are quickly cleared when a gentle cough is hear outside of his door and a muttered curse follows it, his ears pricking up at the sound as his fingers form clenched fists in the material covering the sofa beneath him, nails digging into the thick fibres.

Before he can even register it, he’s pulling in a long breath, chest expanding massively as he pushes himself up and off of the sofa, tiptoeing towards his door with wide eyes as he leans against the frame, holding his breath as he continues to listen for any signs of movement.

A gentle shuffling sound resonates through the grain of the wood as he stands by it; head leant against the cool of the door as he starts to lower his hand towards it, fingers teasing the metal of the handle as he bites on his lower lip, chewing it between his teeth viciously.

He freezes once he’s got a firm hold on the handle, leaning against the frame of the door momentarily before he’s twisting the handle between his fingers and he slowly begins to pull the door open in front of himself, heart fluttering a mile a minute inside of his ribcage, threatening to burst through the tight weaves of bone.

A mass of wet, brunette hair brushes against his ankles as the smaller boy rolls back with the opening of the door, his back falling against the floor as he lets out a weak squeak as he tumbles backwards into Niall’s apartment -  and legs - cheeks flushing.

“You did nothing wrong,” Louis rushes out, jumping to his feet the moment he’s touched at Niall’s skin as he stands with wide eyes, words tumbling from his lips.  “Absolutely nothing wrong, Niall.”  He reaches out for Niall’s arm, brushing his fingertips over the veins that bubble up from his forearm to his wrist.  “Could never do anything wrong,”

Louis’ eyes are transfixed on his arm as he brushes his fingers over the skin, the soft gentle courses sending bolts of electricity through Niall’s skin and through his veins as he lets the boy just touch him, leaning into the touch.

His mind wanders to the lack of communication that he’s had from Louis for the past week and a half, the near daily texts falling into nothing, making him frown as he starts to pull his hand away from Louis’ hold so that he can get his full attention.

Getting Louis’ full attention, however, seems like the worst idea that Niall’s ever had because Louis’ eyes are just so blue and shiny and look so innocent as he looks up at Niall, pulling his lip between his teeth as he slowly drops his hand to his side, watching Niall confused.

“Are you okay, Lou?” Niall asks, watching Louis closely with unsure eyes before they’re fluttering closed, blocking his bright blue eyes from seeing the press of Louis’ lips against his own, the touch fleeting yet honest before they pull quickly away.

“More than okay,” Louis’ hands are clenched down by his sides but he still spreads a smile across his lips, cheeks turning pink as he ducks his eyes from Niall’s.  “Was that okay?  What I did, God, I’m so sorry,”

His _shut up, Lou_ comes in the form of a repeat of their prior kiss, their movements still hesitant but familiar as Niall’s arms come to wrap around Louis’ body in a breathtaking hold, much like the hug they shared all those weeks ago in the darkness of the night, their breaths tingling in clouds of hot air around them as they had said goodbye to one another; neither boy expecting anything like this from those kind words and comforting touches.

“More than okay,” Niall grins, pulling away and licking the taste of Louis off of his lips, hands still tight around Louis’ waist as he pulls him into his apartment with a kind smile.  “So much more than okay,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	105. I'll be there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you liked your first helping of Nouis, because here's your second course:)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3

Niall’s apartment is chilly as he leads Louis inside, their fingers still entwined together as their feet move from battered floorboards to bobbled carpet, timid smiles on their lips as they sit down on the sofa together.

Louis’ fingers are soft where they’re pressed to his own, the subtle knuckles of his fingers slotting between his own as he soothes his thumb over Louis’ hand to get his attention.

The smaller boy’s eyes are wide and shiny as he meets Niall’s, the twinkling’s of a smile starting to paw at his lips as he watches Niall with rosy cheeks.  “What?” He whispers, ducking his head but his hands never weaving themselves out of Niall’s grasp.

“Nothing,” Niall grins, thumb still drawing patterns into the cool, dampness of Louis’ skin before he frowns, looking up into Louis’ eyes before turning towards the window across the room where sheets of water are plummeting from the sky.  “Did you come here in the rain?”

He moves his eyes quickly over Louis’ body, his brunette hair sodden on his head and shiny water droplets skimming over his face every now and again, dipping into the curves and contours of his face.

How his clothes stick to his body, the fibres splattered with rain and damp as they hang oversized on Louis’ tiny frame, his feet no doubt freezing in the pair of flimsy trainers that enclose them, also drenched with the tears from the clouds.

Louis shivers at the mere mention of the rain, Niall’s brain jumping into overdrive as he reaches for the blanket off the back of his sofa, pulling it over Louis’ shaking shoulders and keeping his hands tight in it when Louis tries to shuck it off, saying he’s fine.

“You’re not fine,” Niall argues, keeping his hands steady and strong as he holds the separate ends of the material tight around Louis’ shoulders.  “You’re wet and you’re probably freezing,” Louis’ shoulders yet again shake and all he can do is pull the blanket tighter around the older boy’s shoulders.

Louis’ shoulders slump when his wiggles and mutters of protest don’t work and he’s still wrapped up in the blanket, Niall’s eyes wide and worried as he sorts through the jumble of thoughts in his head.  “But I’m getting your blanket wet,” Louis tries but Niall shakes his head in response, eyes serious.

“And you’re going to give yourself a cold the longer you argue, now c’mon, Lou.  I’ll get you some new dry clothes, just give me a second,” Niall’s up and out of the room before Louis can protest, curling his fingers around his dresser handles and searching for anything that won’t fall off of Louis’ shoulders with every movement or slip off of his waist instantly.

Louis fingers the material as Niall hands the clothes to him, smile lighting up his face when he sees the large H knitted into the jumper, the wool soft and worn between his fingers as he runs them over it, tracing the crisp white of the H.

He looks back up at Niall as he goes to complain that he can’t wear this, that he’s fine with just some sweats or something, but before he can even get the words to travel up his throat Niall’s holding his jaw, stroking soothing patterns into his skin before he kisses his temple.

“It’s fine, okay?” Niall’s lips meet his forehead when he goes to protest, suitably shushing him and leaving his breathless.  “Now I’m off to run the shower and if you want one, feel free to take one.  I’ll be in the kitchen; would you like tea, Lou?”

Louis nods, not trusting his voice as he nibbles on his lower lip, pulling the blanket that’s wrapped around his shoulders tighter around himself as he follows after Niall, hoping he’s heading for the bathroom.

The blonde boy turns on his heels from where he’s leant over the threshold of the shower, fiddling with the knobs and testing the temperature with his hand.  “I think it’s fine,” He says, wiping his hand on a towel before bundling it up in his arms.  

“I’ll go and get you another towel from the cupboard and I’ll see you after, yeah?  Tell me when you’re out so that I don’t turn on the kitchen tap before that and scold you or anything.” He smile across at Louis and his heart just wants to burst with affection for the blonde.

“Thank you,” Louis whispers, wiping his wet hair away and off of his forehead as he plays with the label that’s hanging from the blanket he’s nestled in, running his nails over it to feel the static from it under his fingers.

Niall smiles across at him, walking towards him as he squeezes at his hand, the touch comforting and honest as he meets Louis’ eyes, stroking away a piece of hair that’s still littering Louis’ forehead.

“Anytime, anything, just tell me when, tell me where and I’ll be there,” Niall grins, Irish accent twisting around the words as he half sings them, voice raspy and lovely as it melts into Louis’ ears, Niall’s forehead pressed against his own.

Louis’ eyes flutter between Niall’s lips and his bright blue eyes as they stand so close, breaths melding together when they meet in the middle between themselves before Niall’s brushing his lips against Louis’ cheek with a smile and he’s out of the room, shutting the door behind himself, leaving Louis alone; just the sound of the water battering down from the shower and the hammering of his own heart filling his ears when Niall’s voice dissolves to nothing but sweet melodies in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	106. Keep me a little while longer (I'll be fine)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry and so embarrassed by the fact I didn't get this chapter up yesterday. My internet was down and I had no way to upload it and I was quite literally pulling my hair out about it and urgh, my life sucks.
> 
> Anyway, I'm sorry again for being a rubbish uploader, so here's yesterday's chapter today, another one will be coming soon:)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to the one and only brilliant MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3

The heat of the shower soothes the tense lines of his back and settles the hunch that sits between his shoulders as the water streams over his body, dipping into the small of his back before running down his legs and down the plughole.

He runs his fingers through his hair, teasing them through the strands as he picks a bottle of shampoo off of the floor of the shower, squirting the smallest drop into his palm before soaping up his hair and washing it away, head tipped back as his fingers massage at his scalp.

He feels refreshed and warm when he steps out, the steam from the water billowing out around him as he reaches for the big, fluffy towel that’s sat on top of the radiator, fingers curling instantly around the warm fibres as he wraps it around himself.

The fabric is soft against his pruned skin, fingertips wrinkled from the water that’s surrounded his body as he washed away the cold and the wet from his body, replacing it with a happy, warm buzz that has him smiling timidly at himself in the mirror.

The towel is wrapped haphazardly around his shoulders as he watches himself, reaching his hand up to his cheeks to poke at the protruding bones there, running his fingers across the slanted lines, almost missing the slight baby fat that had once positioned itself there because his face just looks so _hollow_ now.

He meets his own eyes in the mirror, the blue as alive as he’s seen it be recently but the childish glint that Harry used to describe to him doesn’t seem to be there quite as prominently anymore, just a dull gleam of blue meeting him instead.

He chews on his lip as he guides his fingers down his face, over the column of his throat to where his shoulders meet his collar bones, the hollows between them deep and obvious, like a hole dug down deep around his neck.

He ducks his fingers inside of them experimentally, curling them around the bone as far as he can before he squirms away from himself, eyes wide as he looks at what he’s allowed himself to become, how he’s let himself be like this.

Louis’ mind backtracks on that thought however, reminding himself that it’s not his fault, Harry’s countless reminders and texts ringing in his mind as he repeats the words over and over in his mind. 

It’s not his fault.

Niall’s whistling down the hall and Louis can’t help but grin as he tucks his head around the doorframe of the bathroom, calling out that he’s finished, receiving an answering holler from the blonde before the pipes under his feet are squealing to life again and the kettle rumbles to life loudly in the kitchen soon after.

Niall’s jumper is too long in the arms but it wraps perfectly around his hands, protecting them from the air of the apartment as he pulls the joggers up his legs, tying them tightly at the waist when they threaten to slip down his waist.

He groans in frustration as he head towards the door of the bathroom, fingers wound around the knob as he turns to look at himself in the mirror, the steam condensing on the glass but still allowing him to see the messy-dampness of his hair that towel drying hasn’t managed to help, the humps of his hips, the bones sticking out of his skin so much that his stomach turns a bit before he quickly pulls his jumper down over them, hiding them from view.

He jumps in surprise when he ducks out of the doorway, Niall’s easy smile meeting him before he realises who it is and he ducks his shoulders defensively, causing Niall to chuckle at him happily.

“Not funny,” He mutters and Niall just smiles, quieting his laughter as he hands a mug of steaming liquid to Louis with a grin, the heat of the porcelain making him feel happier and happier as the scent of the tea wafts around his face in wispy streams.

“You don’t take sugar, do you?  I didn’t put you any in because I’m sure I’ve heard you complain about not tasting the tea if you sweeten it,” Louis cocks his head to the side as Niall scrunches his eyebrows in frustration.  “Well, I think that’s what you said, if not I can go and get you some.”

Louis shakes his head, wet hair falling over his forehead before Niall’s reaching up to push it back, tucking the sodden strands behind his ear.  “No, it’s fine I like it like this best,” Louis smiles, cheeks flushing but Niall doesn’t seem to notice as he stretches his fingers out to tuck them into the cuff of Louis’ jumper sleeve with a small, satisfied smile.

“You look good in jumpers, y’know?” Niall seems to say the words more to himself but he lifts his eyes the moment the words have hit Louis’ ears and his cheeks can’t help but darken dramatically, going from a rosy pink to a cherry red instantly.  “Should wear them more often.”

He keeps his hand around Louis’ cuff, fingers curled around the fibres as he starts to walk the two of them back towards the living room before Louis’ yawning and Niall smiles across at him, all wide eyes and concerned looks. 

“Are you tired, Lou?”  He rubs his hand over the back of Louis’ hand, movements slow and soothing as another yawn threatens to traipse up Louis’ throat as he shakes his head.  Niall grins knowingly when Louis’ yawn slips between his lips, eyes fluttering slightly closed. 

“You can sleep here if you want,” He pushes open his bedroom door with his foot as they walk past it, Louis peering inside and thinking of how he’d been so desperate to feel the covers against his skin again, have the scent of Niall in his nose again.

He reaches his hand up to rub at his eyes, frowning at himself before Niall’s tugging him slowly into his bedroom and pushing Louis onto the end of the bed carefully.  “Sleep, Lou,” Niall whispers when Louis makes a move to get back up.

“Can’t sleep,” Louis mumbles, Niall’s hand feeling hot against his skin where it’s pressed against his shoulder, keeping him on the bed.  “My hair’s wet, I’ll get your bed all wet,”

Niall falls silent around him before a hot blast of air dances across his skin, his eyes widening and jumping away from it before a hand lands on his shoulder and he turns towards it, eyes taking in the affectionate look in Niall’s own blue orbs before he realises where it’s coming from and why it’s there as Niall cards his fingers through his hair, drying the strands with a hair dryer. 

“Not going to wet it now,” He chuckles over the buzz of the dryer, fingers curling around the strands experimentally as Louis leans into his hold, into the stream of heat.

Louis makes a noise of agreement in the back of his throat as he closes his eyes, lets Niall play with his hair and brush at it as he dries it, the heat of the dryer making a shiver run down his spine, curling himself back against Niall’s chest as the smaller boy dries his overgrown hair.

“It’s not too hot, is it?” Niall enquires when Louis shivers again, back convulsing against his chest as he continues to dry before Louis’ making an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, Niall grinning at it before he returns the dryer to the brunette locks, fingers still grooming through the strands.

Niall’s fingers gradually begin to reach the ends of his hair, twisting the long strands around his fingers before he’s pulling the dryer away and smiling against the back of Louis’ neck as the smaller boy leans back against his chest.

“Can you sleep now?” Niall whispers against his neck, lips moving gently across the skin as he speaks and Louis can’t stop the involuntary goose bumps that bubble on his skin as he presses harder against the blonde, leaning back in his strong hold as his eyes start to flutter shut, the mix of warm hair and Niall’s body against his own lulling his mind into slumber.

“Yeah,” Louis whispers, voice broken by sleep as he slumps against Niall’s chest, head tucked against Niall’s chest as the blonde starts to lean backwards, Louis following and laying back against the bed, Niall laying the covers across them as he hold Louis in his arms, sleeping taking Louis away to another world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	107. Burn me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am so sorry for yesterday, feel so bad about it:( I hope these last two chapters have made up for it<3
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh - check her out, she's lovely:)

 Louis is a hot and shivering mess in his arms as he comes to, eyes blinking open slowly as he rubs his nose into his pillow before the pure heat of Louis hits him, sending sparks of uncomfortable warmth through his fingertips.

His eyes shoot open as the fire of Louis’ body shoots along his skin, Louis’ flesh hot to the touch and shining under the moonlight that’s trickling in through the unclosed curtain with a sheen of sweat as he fidgets in Niall’s hold.

Niall strokes his hand over the hair at the nape of Louis’ neck, fingering at the strands as he pushes himself up onto his elbows to look at the smaller boy that’s bundled up under his arms, cheeks red and quiet whimpers grinding through his lips.

Louis pushes him away when he moves to pull him closer into his arms, to stroke his hair off of his damp forehead and turn his head to make sure he’s okay, whispering in the darkness around them.

Niall pushes the blankets off of himself as he repositions himself on the bed, leaning over Louis so that he can press his palm against his forehead, feel the fever that’s burning through his body and forcing his cheeks to be smattered in red blotches and his lips to be bitten raw as he twists and turns endlessly in the sheets.

“Lou, you okay?” The brunette boy just pushes himself around the duvet, kicking it off of himself pathetically as he curls into himself.  “Lou, wake up, you’re burning up,” Niall reaches out to press his hands against Louis’ hands but they’re instantly pulled away from him, Louis hissing at him as he retracts his hands, as if burnt.

Louis’ eyes are wide and glossy as he stumbles across the mattress, crawling up it in quick strides, limbs shaking and his chest rising and falling manically before he’s perched on the end of the bed, hand clenched in skin-whitening fists. 

“Lou?” Niall whispers, watching the shiver run down Louis’ back as he speaks, tumbling through his body as he traps his lip between his teeth, moon high and bright in the sky backlighting him as he curls into himself, defensive twist to his shoulders.

“Lou, it’s fine, it’s just me,” He reaches his hand out towards the brunette boy before he’s fleeing from the end of the bed, body meeting the bedroom door as he comes into contact with it, hand curling round the handle as he watches Niall with scared, worried eyes, body still trembling.

“It’s okay,” Niall tries, shuffling up the bed to sit and watch Louis, the Doncaster boy’s eyes frantic as they look between Niall and the handle, as if deciding whether to fight or flee and Niall clenches his fists, nails digging into his palms when he sees the lone tear begin to tumble down Louis’ cheek as he slumps against the door.

“It’s fine, you’re fine, everything’s fine, yeah?  You just need to cool down, I’ll get you a glass of water, okay?”  He slowly lifts himself from the bed, his jeans uncomfortable where they encase his legs from sleeping in them but he stumbles across the room regardless, watching Louis closely the nearer he gets to the smaller boy.  “I’ll just be in the kitchen, yeah?”

He reaches his hand out towards the handle that Louis’ got his hand wrapped around, fingers gentle as they peel Louis’ from around it, keeping eye contact the whole time as he does so.  “Let me know if you need anything else, yeah?”

He reaches a timid hand out to wipe away the single tear that’s blemishing Louis’ face, Louis tensing as his hand moves towards his face but melting into the touch the moment that their skin connects, head tilting towards it before he closes his eyes, sucking in a breath that sounds like it’s littered with unshed tears.

Louis’ hand comes out to tease fingers between Niall’s own as his eyes stay closed, bitten lips turning up into a delicate smile that wobbles slightly the longer it sits on his face.  “Don’t need anything else,”

His voice is hoarse and broken and Niall’s heart breaks at the mere sound of it, squeezing at Louis’ hand quickly before he presses a lingering kiss to his forehead and heads out of the room, trying to burn away the memory of sadness sitting in Louis’ eyes, clouding the brilliance of the blue in them and masking it with something that tears Niall’s heart to shreds as he sucks in a calming breath, needing to be strong for Louis, despite the fact he can’t even be strong for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	108. Don't let go (I'll fall apart)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want a jumper with my initial on it.
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh<3

Niall’s bedroom is warm around him, his skin burning up as he rolls the sleeves of Niall’s jumper up his arm, fingers getting caught in the weave of the material as he does so, sinking to the floor by the door to suck in calming breaths.

His heart hammers a mile a minute in his chest as he tries to compose and prepare himself for the potential whiplash that’s soon to come when Niall asks him _why, what, how, when, who, where_. 

And he can’t answer that.

A shiver races down his spine when the vicious black pupils come into his mind, the scrape of fingernails burning against his skin, digging in deep to his flesh as he clenched his eyes shut, pleading for it to stop.

He whimpers when the eyes won’t go away, the orbs like pits of oil that he’s stuck in, downing in as he sucks in a breath to try calm himself, palms sweating as he tries to push away the feelings that have run throughout his entire body, how he’d had no choice but to feel them, no way to escape.

The streetlights burn into the backs of his eyes as his mind goes through the memory again, the memory that he’s managed to keep buried away in the back of his mind, so far away that he’s barely thought about it since he locked it up in the shadows of his mind.

But it manages to break out again when he’s in the inky darkness of Niall’s room, the moon high in the sky, looking down upon him just like it had all of those months ago when November hadn’t quite rolled on through to December and the country and instead been stuck in a dreary coolness that his panicky sweat sticking to his flesh as he ripped his lips to shreds, tears stinging behind his eyes.

His hands start to throb as he holds them in fists, blinking away the tears that want to fall from his eyes and litter Niall’s clothes with his sadness, refusing to damage Niall to any degree.

He needs to say something; he needs to give him a warning, a way out of the life he’s beginning to crawl into, completely unaware of what’s in store when he gets inside the rabbit hole of Louis’ life.

But he can’t.

He can’t push away the only thing that’s worked for him, the only person that seems to want to be near him, not when he feels a selfish _need_ to have Niall in his life.

He needs to tell him.

He chokes on a sob when his conscious talks over his broken heart, the voice knowing and mighty as it echoes in Louis’ mind, quelling the images of uncaring eyes and foul language as he, himself, had shattered into tiny pieces, and just placing a picture of Niall in his mind, cheeks red and blotchy with fresh tear tracks as salty tears trickle down his cheeks, spilling over his baby blue eyes and clouding them of their naturally breathtaking beauty.

He can’t do that; can’t put that broken look in Niall’s eyes, can’t know that he’s broken someone else in order to fix himself, won’t allow himself to put someone through how he feels, it sickens him to his stomach when the mere though goes through his head.

He wipes at his eyes quickly and fiercely to make sure that no salty tears have slipped from his eyes and run down his face, his skin still hot to the touch but he feels icy cool inside, heart still thundering in his chest as he composes himself, biting down hard on his lip to ground himself.

Niall knocks on the door gently when he comes to it, Louis’ heart stopping, stagnant, before it begins to sprint at full pelt in his chest, leaving him dizzy before Niall’s voice is echoing into his ears.

“Lou, it’s me, is it okay if I come in?” His heart hurts with how much he doesn’t want to say this, how he wants to keep Niall in his life forever, to grip and hang onto the blonde boy for as long as he can because he can’t begin to think about what he’ll do when he lets go, doesn’t even want to contemplate that yet.

He sucks in a breath, hoisting himself from his safe haven on the floor, legs shaky as he pulls open the door, lips in a sad little smile that makes the tears he’s swallowed down want to spring back up in his eyes once again.

“You okay, Lou?” Niall whispers, just watching Louis and never stepping over the threshold of his bedroom until Louis nods, taking the glass of icy cool water from the blonde’s hand and sipping at it, the water beginning to cool him down slightly.  “Are you still hot?”

Niall reaches a hand out towards his forehead, fingers pressing against his skin as he takes his temperature, frown forming on his face when he feels hot to the touch still.  “You can take of the jumper, if you want.  I’ll get you something lighter to wear, help you cool down.”

Louis shakes his head, burrowing his chin in the woolly fibres of the garment, nose picking up a subtle hint of Niall in the fibres that makes him smile, cheeks flushing.

He needs to say it.

He keeps his head buried in the jumper as he tries to even his breathing, attempts to formulate the words he wants in his head before he just spews them out, but he can’t do it. 

Niall’s watching him with a look of such _admiration_ that it makes his head and his heart hurt, doesn’t want to give up that look.

You have to, his mind say and he sinks into himself as the words sit heavy on the back of his tongue, ready to be said but his emotions not ready for the rejection that’s coming their way.

“I have something I need to tell you,” Louis whispers, voice hoarse and nothing like the one he used to have; the loud, cheeky voice that annoyed teachers and sounded brilliant as it wrapped around sarcastic comments.  No, this one sounds broken, like his old one has expired and this is what he’s got left of it.

Niall watches him with curious and questioning eyes whilst Louis sucks in another breath, sweat starting to form along his brow before he looks down at the H that’s knitted across his chest, the collar too wide for his neck and slipping off of his shoulders because of its size, the scent of Niall still hitting his nose, making his heart flutter in his chest.

“I’m not normal,” He squeezes his eyes shut, avoiding Niall’s confused eyes before he continues.  “I can’t tell you the details of why, but I’m not,” Niall goes to speak, mouth opening to allow his words to flow out but Louis is faster.

“And I need you to know that whatever this is,” He waves his hands between the pair of them, eyes still ducked from Niall’s own. “It’s going to be hard and difficult and strange and I don’t even know if I’ll be able to do this, but I want to, I want to try.”

“I’ve never wanted to try to do something so much in my life and it’s strange because I barely even know you, Niall.  I couldn’t even tell you what your last name is,”

“Horan,” Niall smiles, voice small but Louis hears it anyway, locking it up in his mind in his box labelled Niall, happy memories of scones and Fast and Furious and strawberry laces tangling around it.

“But I want to know, I want to know everything and that scares me shitless, Niall because I’ve never felt this way before and I don’t know how to act, I don’t know what to expect.  You’re not one of the schoolboy crushes that I know, that I understand.  You’re something else but I still want to try, even if it doesn’t work.”

“And I have no problem with you walking away now, just tell me before I get too attached, because that would break me, Niall, more than I already am, if you walked away later.”

His mind wants him to carry on, to continue with his speech, to let Niall know what he’s getting into but he can’t especially not when Niall’s wiping his tears away and whispering so softly into his ear and he strokes a loving hand down the curve of his back, reminding him of what he could lose and that just makes the tears spring from his eyes faster, tumbling down his cheeks in hot and heavy waves as Niall holds him as if he understands just how broken Louis truly is, understands just how many pieces he could break into if he’s not handled delicately enough.

Louis hopes he doesn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments or questions, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	109. My love, you alone control my heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took an embarrassingly long time to write because I just was not wearing my socks of inspiration today;) Hope it's okay though?
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh<3

Louis falls asleep in his arms, skin still warm to the touch but cool by previous standards as Niall wraps the covers back around the smaller boy, wandering through to the kitchen to glug back a glass of water that sits heavy inside of his stomach, sloshing around as he walks and making him feel even more queasy than he had when he’d stood up.

He makes his way across the length of the kitchen, his eyes trained on Louis’ sleeping form in his bed across the apartment, the bedroom door left open wide from his departure from it, Louis’ chest rising and falling softly under the mass of covers that enclose him, gentle muffled snores seeping from the bedroom to Niall’s ears.

Niall smiles when Louis makes grabby hands around the top of the duvet, pulling it up and over his shoulders more so that it sits snugly over his sleeping form before dropping his hands under the sheets and curling up into a ball.

He hops up onto the kitchen counter when his stomach doesn’t feel quite as heavy and the water doesn’t swish and swash around in his stomach as he moves, leaning back against the tiles that surround his sink.

They’re cool against his warm skin as he melt into them, eyes still trained on the sleeping boy across the hall, looking out for any and all signs that could lead to a repeat of the earlier tears that had begun to spring from his eyes and litter his perfect tan skin.

His breath hitches when Louis makes a sound of discomfort again, his body twisting and turning before he quiets down, ruffling is head against the pillow before he’s snoring out light breaths into the air, completely oblivious of the way he’d forced Niall’s heart to go into overdrive.

Niall sucks in a breath, watching Louis again for anymore telltale signs, heart still a wreck in his chest as he tries to fix his emotions and the thundering in his chest when Louis sniffles out a ragged breath again.

The flat falls quiet around him once Louis is fully settled in his bed, sheets wrapped tightly around his frame as he lets out gentle snores that make Niall smile, eyes crinkling and lips jumping up his face.

The silence allows his mind to wander, memory banks flooding open wide once again as he thinks of how far they’ve come, how they’ve opened up to each other and shown each other things that may seem little but mean a lot to the pair of them.

How just one night had lead to this, to himself watching someone with such a careful eye, as if they’re going to break and he needs to be the one to prevent it from happening, to be there to piece them back together if something does go wrong.

He’s never felt like this, felt a connection so strong, a need to be around someone and be accepted by them before and it’s well, it’s _strange_ , to be perfectly honest. 

The need to want to be accepted, to be wanted by someone that you never knew you’d find or want to find, to want to be the one person that someone comes running to regardless of the time or place, to be there and care for someone that you trust and like, and maybe even love.

Niall shakes the thoughts from his head, however, when they get poisoned by the memories of tear stained cheeks and hiccups of breath that had sounded too wet and too sad to be fine, how Louis’ blue eyes had glimmered with tears that built up and grew into large puddles on his cheeks and in his lashes.

The way that his voice had gone croaky and broken when he’s spoken, how he’d sounded as if his soul had been ripped from his body and only the final threads of life had been left within himself, grasping on for dear life when the rest of him had been thrown away and discarded.

Before Niall can even contemplate what he’s doing and why there are salty tears are racing hot and heavy down his cheeks and slipping into the seam between his lips, his phone is sitting in his lap, hunting down signal before his message is sent and he wipes a timid hand across his eyes, skin left damp with tiny tears.

‘Haz, what does Louis mean when he says that he’s ‘broken’?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	110. A memory of you lies in my bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knew I could drag one night out over so many chapters?
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh :)

Harry wakes up alone, his bed cold and the air around him stagnant and chilly as he huddles himself up under his duvet, clinging to the last few minutes he has in bed before he has to get up and go to work.

Zayn’s scent is undeniable under his nose as he clenches his eyes shut, willing sleep to take over his mind once again and put his rushes of thoughts at rest, but the spicy smell of Zayn on his sheets is more than enough to put his mind into overdrive; thoughts rushing through his head and memories that make his stomach clench tightly and twist uncomfortably bombarding his brain.

The vile words and the pointed looks are enough to put him on edge, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as they whizz through his mind, each as sickening as the one before and after it as they weasel their way through his thoughts.

He grinds his teeth together as he tries to force them out, to black out the sickening words that had made Zayn curl up into his side and shatter him into even more tiny pieces, broken him in a way that Harry had promised him he’d never let happen again.

Zayn’s sad eyes pierce into his mind next, the devastated and distraught orbs striking at his heart, the depth of sadness that had fallen into his eyes, making him look so much younger, so much more confused by what was deemed to be ‘wrong’ with him.

Harry wraps his arms around himself when he involuntarily reaches across the mattress for Zayn’s sleeping form, before his hand falls on nothing and his lips drop into a deeper frown, remembering how the memories he’s reliving had cause this, for Zayn to go to his flat instead of Harry’s for the night, for probably the first time in two months.

He thinks back the last time he actually saw Zayn walk down his end of the street and turn down it, his footfalls delicate as he wandered home instead of into Harry’s flat.  How his shoulders had sunken the moment Harry had walked away from him heading for his own home, how he’d dragged his feet and looked to the ground as he walked, hands in his pockets.

A mighty contrast to how he normally smiles all the way up the stairs of Harry’s building, feet bouncing up each of the steps as he holds either Harry’s hand or has their arms laced together, chatting absentmindedly about whatever comes to them at the time, talking easily and happily.

He remembers how Zayn had gotten when he’d said that he was going back to Cheshire for his mum’s birthday one time and how understanding yet sad Zayn’s eyes had been when he’d wished him a safe journey and kissed a chaste kiss to his lips before trudging down his end of the street and turning away from Harry, his hands sunken deep in pockets and shoulders risen almost defensively.

How Zayn’s more carefree the further away from the street which they should head separate ways on they are, how he begins to sink into himself when they turn the final corner and the road is splayed out before them, how his hand clenches in Harry’s sometimes as they turn down it.

He chews on his lip as he thinks about how Zayn never talks about his family, his friend’s outside of Niall and Liam or his house, how he’s never been invited round there and only ever sees Zayn in his flat and not in his own, feeling a little bit like he’s missing out when he knows he’s not and he’s just being ridiculous.

He shakes his head at his thoughts, the bright numbers on his alarm clock glaring daggers into the side of his head as he lays under his duvet, playing with a loose thread near one of the seams as he lays across Zayn’s half of the bed, the mattress dipping differently underneath himself than his own side does, the bed fitted to Zayn and not himself anymore.

He smiles despite himself as he curls his hands in the duvet, pulling it over his shoulders as he nuzzles his face into the pillow, smoke and spice on the fabric from when Zayn had laid across it just the other night, grinning across at him, eyes happy and smile childish as he’d tickled Harry’s calves with his feet, laughter ringing in the air.

The vicious buzz of his alarm steals him away from his dream about Zayn, the smaller boy’s stubble dark and contrasting with the white of his bed sheets, forcing his mind to be set on getting himself washed and dressed for work.

The shower is hot against his skin, but he doesn’t mind, needing the warmth due to the absence of Zayn last night, his skin feeling just a pinch too cold without the smaller boy’s warmth spreading across his flesh through the night.

His badge is fiddlier than he remembers it to be as he throws on his clothes, smoothing the creases quickly before he picks his phone up in one hand, turning it on as he wanders through to the kitchen, dropping two slices of bread into the toaster before rifling through the fridge to find the jam.

When he does, his badge is in place and his bread is still being toasted, the scent drifting up his nose and creasing his face with a smile as his phone flashes onto the lock screen, Niall’s name in bold font across the width of it as he swipes at the screen.

‘Haz, what does Louis mean when he says that he’s ‘broken’?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	111. The best view is the one right here next to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not quite sure how I feel about this chapter, but I hope you like it anyway:)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh :)

Louis’ eyes slowly peel open as the glare of early morning sunlight dances across his face, eyes twitching open before closing quickly at the sting the light sends into his eyes.

“Sorry, Lou,” Niall apologises, tucking the curtains back over the panes of the window, the sun still managing to sneak through the fibres, despite his best efforts.  “I’ll leave them closed for you; I forgot you weren’t awake yet.”

Louis makes a noise of agreement in his throat as he wiggles in Niall’s sheets, nose ducked into the fabric as a smile graces his lips, his body responding involuntarily to the smell that’s been on his mind for weeks. 

“It’s fine,” He yawns, rubbing his nose into the pillow that’s down by his cheek as he starts to shuffle more determinedly around on the mattress.  “I’m getting up anyway,”

He moves to shuffle out of bed but instead manages to tumble off the side of it, his foot slipping as he tried to untangle his limbs from the thickness of Niall’s duvet, the air outside of the covers slightly too cool to be comfortable, a shiver dancing down his spine as it nibbles at his skin.

He groans in frustration, the covers still wrapped around his legs and covering his face before he pulls it away, moaning. 

He meets Niall’s amused eyes as he pulls the sheets off of his face, the Irish boy’s lips curved up into a wide grin.  “Y’alright down there, Lou?” 

Louis swats at the blonde boy that’s leant over the side of the bed, movements playful as Niall laughs at him, Louis’ cheeks flushing in response.

“Just wanted a change of scenery,” Louis mutters, turning in the sheets that enclose him to hide his flaming cheeks from the blonde boy, covering his face back up with the duvet as Niall continues to chuckle above him.

Niall snorts at his response, fingers curling loosely in the sheets as he moves to delicately peel them back off of Louis’ face.  “So how is the change of scenery down there, then?”  He grins when Louis’ eyes squint up at him, trying to pull the sheets from his grasp again and keep them covering his face.

“Much better,” Louis mumbles, continuing to twist in the sheets to cocoon himself inside of them and hide the tell-tale signs of embarrassment from Niall, his cheeks still hot with the flame of his blush.

“Really?”  Niall sounds thoughtful before he’s crashing down next to Louis, his body slotting in beside Louis’ own and the edge of the bed as he drops down to the floor next to Louis.  “Oh, I understand what you mean now!”  He exclaims, smiling wildly as he flings his arms around animatedly.   “There’s no way I could get such a good look under my bed from up there.”

Louis pushes at Niall’s chest playfully, telling him to shut up as he rolls to the side, separating them so that there’s more room for Niall to lay comfortably on the floor of his bedroom, but the blonde boy just wraps his arms around Louis the moment that the distance is made between them, pulling them back together again.

“So, it’s a nice view you’ve got here,” Niall grins, fingers tucking into the small of Louis’ back over the top of his jumper as he slides them down under the duvet, Louis’ body arching into the touch.

“I know, I paid top dollar for it,” Niall smirks across at him, squeezing at his waist and making him squawk in protest immediately.  “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Niall sing-songs, hands still over Louis’ jumper as they trail up and down over his waist, his hips, fingers pressing in occasionally and making Louis jump and squeal before pouting across at him.

“You know what,” Louis deadpans, pushing himself away from Niall so that his fingers aren’t as close to his skin to stop them from tickling him.

“Sorry, Lou, but I am completely oblivious to what,” He inches his hands up Louis’ sides and Louis’ freezes.  “I am doing,” They tighten around his waist.  “Wrong.” He squeezes gently and a squawk of laughter exits Louis’ lips as he tries to roll away from the younger boy again, ducking in the sheets to escape his pestering hands.

“Stop it!”  Louis giggles, words caught around his laughter as he pushes at Niall’s hands to try and get them off of his waist and to stop tickling his skin.  “Niall!”  Niall grins at him, running his fingers lightly up his sides before he goes in to tickle him again.  “Please stop!”

Niall’s movements move to barely there touches as Louis chews on his lip, eyes becoming wet before he can stop them but he swallows them down, ducking his face against Niall’s chest when his hands come to rest on the centre of his back.

“I’m sorry,” Niall whispers, seemingly sensing the distress that had seeped into Louis’ voice as he’d begged him to stop.  “I didn’t mean to upset you, Lou.”

Louis shakes his head tiredly against Niall’s chest, sucking in deep breaths as he tries to blink back the salty tears that want to spring from his eyes.  “No, it’s fine, I’m just overreacting.”

Niall’s hands come to play with the straggly ends of Louis’ hair at the back of his neck as he shakes his own head, voice solemn.  “No, honestly, I’m sorry.  There’s no excuse for it, I should have stopped when you told me to.  I’m sorry, Lou.”

Louis lifts his head to smile small at the blonde boy, leaning back into the hold that Niall has on his hair as he does so.  “It’s fine, honestly.” He presses a chaste kiss to Niall’s lips, licking his own quickly once they part.  “Anyway,” He looks up towards where the alarm clock is sat on Niall’s bedside table, the numbers loud and proud.  “Shouldn’t you be at work by now?”

The blonde boy looks over his shoulder to spy the clock, groaning lightly in frustration before he’s picking Louis up in his arms, throwing the smaller boy back onto the bed.  “I should,” He moans, reaching for his hoodie off the back of the chair across the room.  “I’ll see you later, Lou.  Lock up when you leave, yeah?  The keys are in the bowl by the door and also eat and wear whatever you want when you get up.”

Niall’s out of the room before Louis can even put two and two together.

“But that means that I’ll have your spare key!”  Louis calls as he hoists himself up into a sitting position on the bed, watching Niall jog down the hallway to the door.

“That it does,” Niall grins, turning to look at Louis as he waves goodbye before he’s out of the door, the flat quiet without the blonde around as Louis sits and watches the door, waiting for him to come back and say that the hope in his voice was just playful and didn’t mean anything.

Though he doesn’t return and Louis’ mind just becomes overridden with thoughts, forcing him to get out of bed and tiptoe down the hallway, reaching into the bowl by the door and pulling out the silver of the key, sliding it between his fingers as he gets used to the weight of it in his hand.

That it does, Louis repeats in his head, the metal of the key warming against his skin as he rolls it between his fingers, confusion rolling off him in waves as he watches the tiny scrap of metal for answers that he knows he can only get from the blonde boy that makes his heart feel funny in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	112. You've got me on the edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a massive thank you to all of the people that have taken the time out to read this, it means so much to me<3
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh :)

Niall’s own house key burns a hole in his pocket as he slips into work, chatting with Ed and the others around him as he works, helping his customers pack their shopping, whilst his mind drifts off into the unknown.

His day goes by rather uneventfully, conversing with customers and carefully packing their shopping into their bags before wishing them a good day and watching them walk out of the shop, wishing to follow them and be free from his swivel chair and be able to curl up in his bed, the sheets still misted in Louis’ scent.

 His mind quickly gets lost the world of brunette hair styled by magical creatures in the middle of the night, eyes that pop and look magnificent when tired and sleepy, his skin soft to the touch and brightened by a light tan.

He smiles as he gets off work for lunch, rounding Ed up in the staffroom before they set off down the street, their jackets pulled tight around themselves as they walk to the coffee shop, Liam grinning at them before they’re even through the door.

Liam grins at them as they head towards the counter, coffee pot in his hand as he picks up mugs and sets them down in front of the two seats that Niall and Ed usually occupy when they’re not leant against the worktop.

“Long time, no see.” Liam smiles, pouring their drinks and stirring them carefully as he leans his forearms on the countertop.  “Milk? Sugar?  I’ve forgotten, it’s been that long since you came in here.”

Niall snorts out a laugh, stealing a mug of steaming liquid off of the countertop with a grin before sipping at it, the coffee scolding his tongue.  Liam laughs at him in response before the blonde pouts at him, forcing Liam to stop through guilt tripping him.  He grins in victory.

“Anyway, it’s good to see you too, Li,” Ed chuckles, watching their exchange, amused, before he reaches out for his own mug, sliding himself down into a chair.  “I’ve got some song lyrics for you to look at, if you have time.”

Liam’s eyes immediately revert to the clock on the far wall, frown taking over his features.  “I haven’t got time now, but I’d love to look at them later, when I get off work, yeah?”

“You can look at them now,” Alex whispers, his head popping over Liam’s shoulder as he hugs his waist.  “Business is slow and I can handle it on my own for a while,”

Liam goes to shake his head but is cut off by Alex reaching around the counter to lift it up, pushing Liam on the other side of it with a childish smirk.  “It’s fine, Li.” He assures, reaching across to unknot Liam’s apron and fold it under his arm.  “Now go, yeah?”

Liam’s cheeks flush before he nods, smiling at the dark haired boy before he’s whisked away in Ed’s lyrics and melodies, looking them over with such an adoring gaze, pupils lingering on words longer than others as he tries to take them in the way Ed wants them, singing them in his head the way Ed’s written them on his page, trying to imagine the experiences that put them there.

Niall smiles at his friend, sliding into the chair opposite the two boys as they sit around the table closest to the counter, as he watches them work, talking animatedly about this melody and that line, how this could be improved with this note and this lyric would sound so good sung just a key higher.

He quickly loses interest, however, when they start using more technical language, his mind twisting into knots as he tries to understand how they decided this would be better if they did that but that those would sound better without this.

His phone is in his hand before he can got roped up deeper in their confusing talk, tapping quickly against the screen as he deletes words and spell checks others, feeling slightly more self-conscious when his house key’s jagged edges slide against his thigh.

‘I forgot to tell you that your clothes are in the washing machine in the kitchen, sorry :/  I’ll drop them off for you later, if you didn’t pick them up :)’

He mentally face palms himself for how lame he sounds once he’s read back through his words, the message already zooming through the air to Louis’ phone.

‘I forgot all about them!  Don’t worry about it, I’ll just pop back and pick them up, save you dropping them off :)’

‘How about you pop back when I’m home, instead? :)’

Louis doesn’t reply to his text for quite a while, Niall chewing on his lower lip nervously before he locks his phone, sliding it out onto the table in front of himself and engaging in the conversation that Ed and Liam are having around him when he decides that nibbling on his lip isn’t helping him any.

He instantly gets lost in the words that the pair are speaking, just nodding as if he knows what they’re on about before he offers to get them all another coffee, picking his phone up out of habit when he heads to get their drinks, despite the fact he promised himself not to.

Alex smiles at him before he works on their order, passing Niall a pre-packaged biscuit from behind the counter as he waits for the coffee to blend, making small talk before he’s whisked away to process another order.

Niall nibbles on the biscuit as he watches out the front window of the coffee shop, leaning back against the counter and just watching life go by before his standstill, his phone vibrating in his pocket.

‘Maybe I will, maybe I won’t; only time will tell’

Niall’s breath hitches in his throat, choking out a thank you to Alex when he hands them the steaming mugs he ordered as he walks light headed back to the table, Louis’ words like drugs in his system as he smiles all dopily, ignoring the looks that Liam and Ed give him and just focusing on Louis.

Only Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	113. Home is where the heart is ( the key to yours is in my hand)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My characterization of Louis seems to change his opinions so quickly, it's almost like whiplash.
> 
> This chapter title was so difficult to decide between as they were both beyond amazing, but MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh gets it because hers was just a little bit more focused on the chapter plot. Loved them both, it was so stressful to decide between them<3

Louis hangs around under the flight of stairs that lead up to Niall’s apartment as the sun starts to set in the sky, Niall having clocked off earlier that afternoon after he texted Louis just to let him know.

His heart hammers in his chest as he tries to focus his thoughts, Niall’s house key still burning a hole in his pocket, singeing his skin as he leans back against the wall, sucking in breaths that do little to calm him.

Niall gave him his house key.

He still can’t fully process the information, can’t fit the pieces together for as to why he gave him it; but he doesn’t really want them to, if he’s being perfectly honest.

The metal is a comforting weight in his pocket, pulling him into the ground and stabilising him for some unfamiliar and completely foreign reason and helping to keep the little black box tucked up in the deepest, darkest shadows of his mind hidden and locked tight.

He leans his head back against the wall, letting the cool of the plaster chill his heated skin as he looks up at the underside of the stairs, at all the discoloured wood and dust-covered lintels that hold the structure together, just watching and letting his thoughts try to fix themselves in his head.

They don’t seem to get anywhere, however, as he closes his eyes shut, breathing through his nose as he tucks his right hand hesitantly into his pocket, letting his fingers curl around the jagged metal, feeling the chill of it against his flesh.

He traces his fingertips along the groves of the key, fingers dipping into all the nooks and crannies of the new life he’s been handed on a silver platter, feeling his way around them when he _knows_ he shouldn’t, that it’ll hurt more later on if he does; but he can’t stop himself.

His mind backtracks to all of the things that he’s confided in Niall with these past few months.  All the little things that may not mean much to Niall but mean a lot to him.  The things that show he’s picking up all of his broken pieces and trying to glue them back in place, that he’s fixing himself.

How he’d let Niall know about his family, spoken about them so freely when Niall had done the same, talking carefree about Lottie, Phoebe, Daisy and Fizzy once Niall had finished describing Greg and his mum and dad so animatedly, telling stories about them growing up together and grinning as he spoke, as if enjoying every second.

How he’d allowed Niall to get close to him the night they first met, how he’d fallen into the blonde’s side with no sign of hesitation, his body seemingly forgetting all of the horror that had occurred to it not long before and shooting down any and all signs of doubt that littered his mind.

Smiling with Niall as they commented on the lack of entertainment they’d both found in Twilight, telling stories of their film experiences and letting each other in to such small segments of their lives that Louis can barely remember which parts of himself he had previously vowed never to let anyone into again.

The way he’d let Niall into his life almost subconsciously, just opened up all of the doors that he’d sealed so tightly closed around himself and broken through all of the chains, the padlocks, the barricades all tumbling down around him and leaving him vulnerable in a way that should scare him stiff, but has him reaching out to pull Niall in closer instead.

He digs the end of his finger into the sharp tip of the key as he clenches his eyes shut for a final time, his vision splattered with pixelated shapes when he opens them again as he works his way up the stairs that he’s been hiding under for the past half an hour or so.

The floorboards seem louder than they had been earlier that morning when he’d been descending them, the creaks and cracks making the hairs along his body stand on end before he reaches Niall’s floor, his footsteps slowing before he comes up to Niall’s door.

He prods his finger into the end of the key a final time as he raps his knuckles against the door, body freezing as he sucks in a calming breath through his nose, breathing out through his mouth as his senses go into overdrive, palms sweating.

He hears Niall before he sees him, the rasp of his Irish accent twisting around words that the door muffles as he pulls it open, his hair hidden underneath a snapback as he pulls a jumper over his head, hat becoming slanted on his head before he fixes it.

Louis just stands watching him for a short while, twisting his fingers over the bandages that still sit over his palms, the scabs potentially ready to be revealed from under the medical tape, but he can’t be bothered to take them off yet, likes how they covers his hands and protect them slightly from the winter chill that still sits persistent in the air.

“Hey, you wanna come in, Lou?” Niall asks, smiling gently across at Louis as he leans against the door, tucking his hands into his jumper pockets as he does so, looking so effortlessly _lovely_ that Louis can’t use his words properly, just nodding his head and following Niall inside, fingers still curled around the key in his pocket, needing to be centred when he does this, heart thundering a mile a minute.

You can do this, his conscious tells him and for once he believes it, that he can do this, he doesn’t know quite what this is, but he can do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	114. A different kind of home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fetus Harry<3
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3

Niall’s text stays unanswered on Harry phone as he skirts around the blonde, looking over his shoulder the moment his back is turned just to check he’s not there, that he can’t creep up on him and ask him the question he can’t stomach the answer to.

His text to Zayn also stays unanswered, wishing him good luck at his meeting at work that day, seemingly ignored by the brown eyed boy as Harry loads batch after batch of cakes, buns and bread into the bakery oven, preparing them for sale once they’ve all cooled whilst Barbara takes over the counter for the day.

His mind is allowed to race when he’s left to ice the buns and swirl butter cream on the cakes, the job taking so little concentration since he’s been doing it since he was 16, all cherub faced with wild curls that twisted around his face, fingers inexperienced as he tried to make his creations look as professional as possible.

Now, aged 20 with his cheekbones starting to take shape thanks to the riddance of his baby fat, dimples sinking into his cheeks as he pushes his hair off of his forehead, the curls more waves now as he works, he’s reminded of those days, the early days.

The days when he used to slip in here after school to work the evening shift, getting his hands sticky in a mixture of bread dough as he kneaded it, Barbara throwing hints and tips over his shoulder as she watched his technique, teaching him for the long term despite the fact he was just on a trail day with two other potential employees working by next to him.

How Barbara had smiled at him on his first proper day after she employed him, wrapping him up in his own red apron and squeezing his bum affectionately before positioning him behind the counter and helping him with the till system, whispering encouragement every time he got frustrated with himself.

The first day he’d managed to burn a batch of cakes, his cheeks red as he tried to salvage them before Barbara came back in from popping in at her daughter’s house down the street.  The way she’d just smiled and told him it didn’t matter, that so long as he stayed after his shift for a short while and helped her make a new batch it would be fine.

His curls falling into his face as he helped her prepare a replacement batch before Barbara grabbed a tea towel and wrapped it around his head, pushing his curls back off of his face with a knowing smile.  “It beats a hair net,” She’d chuckled, pointing at her own before getting back to work and showing him how to set the oven to turn off once the necessary time was up, to stop batches from being burnt.

Barbara showing him the ropes and gradually handing them to him as he learnt better, understood the techniques he needed to make her cherry scones, was able to ice a French fancy without it looking like a child had dropped it in pink icing, finally was able to get a decent rise on the cakes he put in the oven, her grinning by his side and squeezing his bum playfully each time he got something right.

How when his 17th birthday came around and he had a shift that night, she made a cake with his name on it, the icing perfect and brilliant as it sat on top of one of her perfect Victoria sponges, 17 candles perfectly placed around the circumference of it as the entire staff base sang him Happy Birthday.  Barbara wrapping a bandana around his head once they’d finished, eyes bright as she fixed it in place before squeezing his bum.  “Much better than a hair net,”

How she had comforted him when he’d come into the bakery from school after being bullied about his singing after he messed up on a line in the school talent show that he’d entered, brushing his hair off of his forehead and telling him how it would be fine as she rubbed at his back, soothing him and drying his tears.

Thinking back to the day when he’d been asked out by a customer, the blonde girl pushing a little note with her number into his hand along with her money for her Bakewell tart before winking at him and walking out, his heart not jumping in his chest at the prospect of someone wanting him, but instead sitting stagnant in his chest.

How Barbara had pulled him aside when he’d been glum for that entire week, his eyes sunken in his face and mouth in a flat, lifeless line when normally it was twisted up into a bright smile, eyes green and dazzling in their sockets.  The way she’d hugged him and told him not to worry about it, that what was supposed to happen would.  And it did.

She was the first person he told, not Louis or his mum, but his boss, his voice cracking around the words as his hands shook, expecting to be shouted or screamed at for being different, but she’d just squeezed his bum and grinned knowingly, telling him he was brilliant regardless, that it didn’t change him in her eyes; and he needed that.

The shop walls never changing around him as he grew and changed, the only constant in his life when his sister moved away to go to University and his mum met a new man, Harry becoming the outsider that he’d never previously been.

The scent of Barbara’s floral perfume hanging in the shop and reminding him of who he was more than his own mum’s, since he was yet to tell her, building up the courage bit by bit to let her know that yeah, him and her daughter may have the same taste in more things than just ice cream flavours.

Barbara holding her arms open for him when he told his mum who he truly was, what he couldn’t be even if he tried to, running away from the shock that had sat on his mother’s face and the confusion on Robin’s and revelling in the acceptance of Barbara’s.

Growing from the 16 year old boy with the wild curls into the man that built up the courage to ask Zayn out, his own baby fat just starting to fall from his body when he’d spied him, his dark hair damp and beginning to fall over his forehead but his eyes so golden and deep that Harry had just fallen in love with them, chancing the final piece of courage he had left and using it to be able to speak to him, to ask him out.

Zayn’s on his mind again before he can stop it, trying to push him away but he already knows he can’t - that he won’t - that Zayn’s the other constant in his life and that he couldn’t imagine life without him, doesn’t _want_ a life without him.

His phone vibrates in his pocket as he lowers the icing tube, his fingers sticky before he licks them off, Barbara scolding him despite the fact she’s out on the shop floor, knowing him too well even when she can’t see him, his heart heavy and empty in his chest when he thinks of the tears that had sat in Zayn’s eyes, the slight wobble of his lips as he’d turned to go back to his own flat instead of Harry’s.

‘I’m sorry, I love you, Boo <3’

He smiles a sad smile around his fingers, eyes sad as tears start to form behind them,  sucking in a calming breath as he clenches his eyes shut, licking at his lips, tasting the hints of Zayn in the cracks and crevices that litter them.

‘I love you too, Zee <3’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	115. I have died everyday waiting for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to warn you, I honestly have no idea where this chapter was heading, nor do I know how I managed to kill it so badly, but I did. I'll apologise now.
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to avenuedreaming <3

Niall’s flat smells of pizza as he walks inside, the scent making his stomach clench and twist uncomfortably inside of him, reminding him of his lack of food intake, the fact he hasn’t eaten since yesterday.

Niall smiles across at him as he hands him a plate, slice of pizza messily cut in the centre of it as he goes to chomp on his own.  “You look hungry,” He says as Louis eyes him confused.

Louis nods, lowering his eyes to the food, stomach growling at him to pick it up and put it into his mouth, but his body is slow to react, the heated metal of the key still trapped between the fingers of his left hand as he picks it up.

The cheese gets stuck around his lips as he chews, stomach settling once again when something falls into it, filling it up.  He devours the piece much faster than he wants to, cheeks flushing when he sees Niall watching him with wide eyes, mouth parted as he goes in for another bite of his own pizza slice.

“Wow,” He breaths, lowering his piece onto his plate, abandoning it as he reaches for Louis’ plate, stealing it from his hands and loading it with another two pieces of pizza.  “That was fast, now do it again.”

Louis cocks his head confused at Niall’s request as he’s handed his plate back, the porcelain warm against his fingers before he lifts another piece to his mouth, chewing on it slowly as Niall watches him.

His stomach growls again when he slows his movements, pizza not falling into his stomach as quickly as it had when he’d finished his last slice and he buries his pride, hating the fact his stomach is growling the way it is, cheeks flushing as he more or less throws his slice of pizza back, hand reaching out for the second as he chews.

His stomach seems to purr once he’s finished, Niall’s first piece of pizza between his fingers as Louis sits with an empty plate and flushed cheeks, waiting for a sarcastic comment from him, but none come.

Niall watches him, eyes wide and in awe as Louis ducks his head, muttering a sorry as he perches himself on the edge of Niall’s sofa, as if ready to bolt from the room like a scared animal.

“Nothing to be sorry for, mate,” Niall chuckles, taking a bite of his own pizza as he tries to form the words he wants without sounding creepy or strange.  “That was amazing, not even I can eat pizza that quick and Liam calls me a gannet.”

Louis’ head stays ducked despite Niall’s attempt to get him to smile and get rid of the flush of his cheeks, the disappointed slant of his shoulders.  “Honestly, Lou,” He reaches his hand out to sit it on Louis’ leg, trying not to show his hurt at the fact Louis flinches from his touch.  “It’s fine, it was pretty cool to see, to be honest.”

Louis just shrugs his shoulders, keeping his eyes on his shoes before he kicks them off, remembering how he’s not in his own house and it’s the polite thing to do.

His socks are red and covered in Manchester United logos as Niall watches his actions, shaking his head at the brunette, telling him it’s fine to keep them on, that it doesn’t matter, but Louis is having none of it, getting up off of the sofa to plant his shoes by the door alongside Niall’s own, in the space between his Supras and his Converse.

Niall thinks he fits in quite well there, between his favourite shoes, the ones he feels most comfortable in.

“So you’re a Manchester United boy, then?” Niall says as he finishes his final slab of pizza, the cheese cooled on top of the dough as he eats, Louis sitting back down next to him as close to the arm of the sofa as he can, Niall notes with a frown.

Louis’ eyes fall on his socks before he lifts his head to Niall’s face, his eyes wide and unsure as he nods, biting his lip.  “Yeah, Rover’s are my locals, but United’s good as well.  You’re into Derby County, aren’t you?”

Niall smiles both at the fact that Louis’ keeping eye contact with him and that he actually remembers, pointing his finger across the room to the Derby County flag that’s tacked to the door of the airing cupboard.  “Yeah, my boys are doing well so far.”

Niall reaches over to grab his glass of water off of the coffee table, lifting it to his lips before he realises he hasn’t made one for Louis, eyes going wide before he’s asking the brunette, his own cheeks as flushed as Louis’ had been as he asks him if he’d like a drink.

Louis nods small, eyes soft as Niall rattles off the things that he’s got before Louis settles for tea, Niall grinning in response because he _knows_ how Louis likes his tea.

When Niall comes back into the room, it’s with his hands loaded down with Louis’ clothes and a steaming cup of Yorkshire Tea, which he may or may not have bought earlier that day because he knows that they’re the teabags that Louis likes the best.

“I brought your clothes through, they’re still a bit damp because they’ve been in the washing machine all day, but they should dry on the radiators.”  The blonde gets to work on hanging Louis’ clothes over the back of the radiator, stroking the creases from the fabric as he goes so that Louis won’t need to iron them later.

“You can change the channel, if you like,” Niall says as he walks back over to the sofa, noting how Louis’ stroking his fingers over the buttons of the remote but not deliberately pressing any of them hard enough for it to change the channel.

Louis jumps at the sound of Niall’s voice as he plops down onto the sofa beside him, tucking his feet up under himself to sit cross legged on his side of the sofa whilst Louis pushes the remote across to Niall with a little shake of his head.

“Honestly, I wasn’t really watching it; just put it on for some background noise, really.” Niall assures, pushing the remote back across to Louis who pushes it back instantly.  “You can change it,” Niall tries, creating a barrier with his leg so that the remote cannot sit on his side of the sofa, stuck on Louis half instead.  “Lou, please.”

Louis’ resolve seems to drop then, shattering on the floor around them as he teases his fingers over the buttons before pressing random ones, the screen dancing onto a new channel at random before their eyes.

Niall laughs out loud when the screen lands on Robert Pattinson, his arms entwined around Kristen Stewart’s shoulders, his skin starting to shimmer like diamonds out in the middle of a forest, dramatic music playing out around them, setting the scene. 

“Good choice,” Niall grins, reaching across to steal the remote from Louis when he reaches back out to grab it, to change the channel again, Niall smirks at the brunette.

Louis huffs out a breath next to him before he hides his face under his arm across the arm of the sofa.  “Please don’t make us watch this,” He mumbles, body still drowned by the size of Niall’s jumper, the H twisted against his chest as he mutters his pleas against the wool of Niall’s jumper.

“Why not?” He teases, reaching across the sofa to pull at Louis’ arm playfully, to lift it off of his face.  “I knew you actually liked this film,” He teases, poking at Louis’ cheek. “It’s just so _good_ , it’s really something.”

Louis huffs out a snort as he tries to steal his arm back from Niall’s grasp.  “It’s something, alright” Louis comments and Niall just bursts into laughter, eyes focused more on Louis than the film in front of him, watching Louis start to peek at the screen from under his arm until he fully removes it from his face, watching the film with faux boredom. 

Niall smiles despite himself, doing the same as Louis as his legs start to wander across the partition of the sofa, coming into contact with the soft, fluffy material of Louis’ socks, neither boy pulling away, just settling in beside one another as the chick flick plays out in front of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	116. Fill (my heart)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School should honestly have never been invented.
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylisonoftheNoueh <3

They fall into sync with one another, Niall and Louis, the pair of them texting throughout the day until one of them falls asleep, smiles on their lips and phones clenched clumsily between their fingers as they’re engulfed by their duvets.

Or each other’s, depending on where they decide the stay that night, Niall seemingly texting Louis to ask him to come round to his house at least twice throughout the week, Louis popping round on the days in between.

They barely see anyone but each other, Niall slipping into his job right on the dot having stayed at his flat chatting to Louis as they worked around each other , preparing their breakfasts and getting themselves ready for the day ahead of them.

He and Ed still talk between their shifts, wandering down the road to Liam’s coffee shop as they tuck their hands deep in their pockets, winter still clutching the air around them, refusing to let spring flutter into the atmosphere.

They still talk, but not as often as they used to, Niall texting Louis more or less as soon as he’s settled in the booth of the coffee shop, Ed and Liam talking around him as Alex throws comments into their conversation, also.

He doesn’t notice the longing looks Liam and Ed give him when he barely responds to their questions, trying to include him in their conversation before he’s sucked back into his virtual one on his phone, neither of the boys quite understanding who he’s talking to, only getting a wide grin when they ask, and the occasional whisper of Louis, depending on the day.

Louis’ life seems to pick up however, tucking shiny new toys and fancy point of sale stands around Toys R Us, breath still hitching when large groups of people come near him, but just about managing to hold his own and stop the frantic beat of his heart in his chest when Niall’s key digs into his thigh, keeping him grounded.

His and Niall’s lunch breaks match up most days, the pair of them texting between their shifts, just simple things or things that they’ve found out that amuse them since they talked last.

He’s got a pair of Doncaster Rover slipper socks at Niall’s house, tucked up in the drawer on the side of the bed he occupies since Niall complained that Louis always stole his fluffy socks and his feet were cold, the blonde wiggling them in front of his eyes before he pulled his socks off of Louis’ feet, baring them against the cool of the night air as they had sat on the sofa one night.

Harry continues to pop around his flat through the week, smiling widely whenever he opens the door before he comes rushing inside, bouncing on the sofa with a bag of food and the intent to cook for the pair of them.

Louis’ never felt so full in his life, eating the food that Harry cooks him before heads out to Niall’s, the blonde always offering him food the moment he steps inside the door and not taking no for an answer, reaching across to poke at Louis’ collarbones and telling him he’s to eat his food, regardless.

Something glows red hot in his stomach when Niall does that, shows him affection without giving him the chance to pass it up, offering him food with no intent to let Louis refuse it.  He likes it.

He feels his stomach start to stick out from under his clothes a little bit when February starts to roll around, the air turning a little bit thicker with pollen but no hotter, sadly.

When he brushes his teeth, using the pink toothbrush that he keeps in Niall’s bathroom, Niall’s clothes beginning to sit on his frame better and not slipping over the sharp arch of his shoulder or his hips, he reaches out to brush his finger over the dip of his collarbone, the drop no longer quite as prominent anymore.

He scratches his fingernails bluntly along it, the bone smooth under his fingers as it’s covered by his skin, colour starting to return to his cheeks, his eyes looking much less swollen in their sockets and the blue just a little bit brighter now, for seemingly no reason.

There’s still a rather prominent arch to his cheekbones, however, but he likes feeling the sharpness of it instead of the baby fat that had once sat there, making him look so much younger.

His hair is still long, strands straggly but he likes it, likes how Niall’s fingers seem to just end up there, no matter what he had been doing before, as if they’re just destined to be there, to scratch at his scalp and make his body relax.

Niall watches Louis more intently the closer the pair of them get, watching him for any clues for as to how he’s broken, the brunette having not disclosed any information on the subject as of yet, almost as if he can’t remember telling Niall at all.

He’s also not yet received a response from Harry, hasn’t seen him actually, now that he thinks about it, not that he’s seen anyone much, Louis the only one he wants to be near recently.

He watches how Louis’ hip bones start to be enveloped by his skin, the bones no longer sticking out through his pale skin and instead stopping him from looking like his skin has been pulled taut across his skeletal frame, making him look more alive.

His cheeks are getting fuller, the slant of his cheekbones still there, but no longer looking as if they’ve been dug into his cheeks like trenches from back in the war days that his granddad used to rabbit on about.

Watches how Louis’ smile has gotten wider, his lips stretching further across his face each and every time he does, how he’s relaxing around him, cheeks still flushing pink but not timidly, like they had done as if expecting something bad to happen in response.

He sees how Louis starts to relax into his side more, his feet now being the ones to move and touch at Niall’s legs as they watch the TV on the sofa, how he wakes up with Louis pressed up against his side, body warm and plaint with sleep.

But he doesn’t see inside of Louis’ house again. 

He doesn’t see Louis in any environment but his own flat, Louis fitting in flawlessly but something is missing; the way Louis sometimes tiptoes around as if he doesn’t know quite where he is and isn’t allowed to go, what he’s allowed to do and what he’s not, reminding Niall that this isn’t Louis’ home.

That regardless of the fact that that tiny scrap of metal sits in Louis’ pocket every time he comes round, this isn’t his home.  That this isn’t where he lives, the place that he’s most comfortable in and that kind of hurts, the fact he hasn’t been invited into that.

He doesn’t dwell on it, however, pushing it to the back of his mind when Louis smiles at him, eyes brilliant blue and lips stretched wide across the tan of his cheeks, cheeky look in his eyes as he steals the remote from Niall’s hand, changing the channel and Niall can’t bring himself to feel sad about it, not when Louis feels confident enough to do that around him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	117. Without a heart, my body's cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently I just seem to like making my characters emotional wrecks, who knew?
> 
> If you have any ideas for any chapter titles, please let me know:) I'll credit you:)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh <3

Zayn stays distant for a couple of days, seemingly leaving early for work each morning, leaving Harry standing on the street corner for a good ten minutes in the hopes of walking with him before he gives in, the chill in the air stealing the last of his hopes before he repeats his actions the next day, hoping for a sense of forgiveness that never comes.

He still receives texts from the older boy, telling him that he’s okay, that he hopes Harry’s okay as well and that he misses him, though he doesn’t get much more than a heart in reply when Harry tells him to come round, that he doesn’t have to miss him.

That hurts.

It hurts more than he’s going to admit, Zayn’s simple heart coming to his phone three times before Harry gets the message, deciding not to ask anymore, not to offer it to Zayn when he obviously isn’t interested in it.

His heart hangs heavy in his chest when his phone goes silent in his pocket, no texts from Louis or Liam or Ed, but mainly Zayn.

His unread messages sticking at 0 as the days roll around him, February drifting into the air and kicking the January blues out of the way; Harry’s certain he felt happier in January than he does now.

He rolls into work each day, doing what he’s supposed to and trying to keep up appearances with Barbara, chatting with his customers before they leave him alone on the shop floor, phone burning a hole in his jeans and heart like a lead weight behind his ribs.

Barbara seems to notice that he doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t need to be reminded of what’s upsetting him, but that doesn’t stop her from handing him trays of excess cakes each night with a smile and a knowing pat to his shoulder, telling him she’ll see him tomorrow bright and early.

It’s never bright, the sun still clinging to its own bed as he walks to work, the sky washed in early morning pinks and oranges as the sun begins to creep up the sky, as if the seasons are feeling like the same emotional wrecks as he does now.

It puts him in an even more depressed mood, the darkness of the morning reminding him of how the pair of them would walk to work together, separating at the intersection between their workplaces with chaste kisses and lingering touches, their skin warmed by their touches before being cooled by the winter chill again.

It reminds him of early morning winter shifts with Barbara, Zayn slipping in at lunchtime all those months back when they’d just been getting to know each other, acting like little school girls with crushes as their cheeks flushed at the slightest of things, trying to sound interesting to keep the other interested, neither seeming to understand that the other’s presence was more than enough to hold their focus.

Barbara eyes him worriedly the second week of February when he head into the backroom to pull his apron over his clothes, tying his hair back with the bandana that still sits across the small bench in the back, waiting for him each morning.

She doesn’t explicitly call him out on it, keeps it more to herself, asks him if he slept alright the night before, saying he looks a bit tired, that he should leave early tonight and get some rest, get Zayn to rub his feet or something to relax him.

He winces at the use of Zayn’s name in her sentence and she sees it, how his eyes flicker to a sad, lonely green before he ducks his head, pushing his bandana back over his curls to stop them from falling back into his eyes.

His heart feels like a ten tonne weight in his chest when Barbara uses Zayn’s name in such natural conversation, as if she can’t see Harry without him; and maybe she’s right, because he does feel like he’s missing half of himself.

Feels like the screaming in his chest may be because of the fact that half of his heart is lost, that Zayn took it with him when he went back to his flat when they stopped talking and texting. 

How it feels like he’s no longer whole without Zayn, like he’s missing a part of himself that is just so _vital_ that his body’s put off by the imbalance of it, struggling to know how to cope with such a change.

He chews on his lower lip, feeling the sadness start to creep up his throat, the confusion for as to why Zayn’s blocking him out, why when he rings his mobile he gets no answer, why he’s lost the half of himself that matters most, all of it scratching its way up his throat before he can stop it, before he can compose himself.

Barbara’s arms are a solid, comforting weight around his shoulders as she pulls his head to her chest, the scent of her perfume dancing up his nose and reminding him of all those years ago when he came back from school feeling like he didn’t fit in, like nobody wanted him and he didn’t know why, begging Barbara to tell him how he could change himself, how he could make himself what was classed as normal.

Her voice is soothing in his ear as he lets out all of his frustrations, all of the emotions running through him all at once and leaving him a hot, sweaty mess in her arms as she tries to stop his tears, quieten the brokenness of his voice, repair the cracks in his speech.

Her hands play with his hair as he starts to calm down, his tears starting to evaporate against his cheeks, leaving them hot and sticky but not wet as he puffs out calming breaths, fingers uncurling from Barbara’s apron as he pulls away slowly.

She smiles sadly up at him, reaching up to wipe the remaining tears from his face, holding onto his jaw and stroking her fingers along it, pushing his lips up into a small smile.

“Smile, Harry,” She coos, smiling knowingly with glossy eyes behind her glasses.  “You look so handsome when you smile.”

Harry ducks his eyes, smiling despite himself at her kind words, his lips cracked and bitten raw with worry before he lifts his eyes to thank her, cheeks pink with embarrassment for making her see him like that again, until his eyes spy the lingering figure in the doorway. 

“Zayn?”

The figure lifts his head instantly, eyes wide and unsure as he scuffs his shoes against the lino of the bakery, picking at his nails nervously, tattoos spiralled up his arms as he pushes his work shirt sleeves up his forearms, blatantly oblivious to the frost that’s in the air he just walked through.  “Haz,”

His voice is soft and sad as he speaks, eyes darting from the dampness that’s still hanging to Harry’s eyelashes, the redness of his eyes and his crimson, puffy cheeks littered with maps of tear tracks.

He’s up and in Harry’s space before he can speak again, neither boy caring much for anything but each other as they cling to one another, hands fisted in the other’s clothes as they just hold each other, rocking side to side as they whisper promises that bind them together between them.

The I love you’s being the only things that Harry can focus on, Zayn so close to him when he had been so far away, the other half of his whole joining him again, lifting his heart and drying his tears before a new batch come out to play, tears of happiness teasing their way down his cheeks as Zayn’s voice rings in his ears.

_I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Reader<3


	118. I've missed you so

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much to all of the people that have gotten this story to 8,000 hits, it means so much to me<3
> 
> Chapter titled credit goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh<3

Harry’s skin feels hot under his fingers, the tiny hairs standing on end as he runs his hands down them, taking in the curly haired boy and wishing to never let go, to never have to feel air on his skin where he’s pressed up against Harry.

Harry’s hair tickles his nose like always, odd strands tinkering around and brushing across his face, over the stubble that he’s let grow out and itch his face, leaving it sore but not caring, needing something, anything to distract him.

Harry’s fingers dig into the bottom of his spine, his short nails pressing into his skin through the thin cotton of his shirt, and he wants to hiss in pain but he can’t, the feel of Harry on him enough to dull his senses and ignore the screams of his nerve endings.

The curls of his hair are tucked back in his bandana, the material slipping over his curls as he dips his head deeper into Zayn’s chest, making him feel like the tall one in the relationship for once, smiling dumbly to himself as he thinks it, Harry’s mouth forming shapes against his chest as he pulls in drags of breath.

“I missed you,” The taller boy whispers, voice muted by the cotton of Zayn’s t-shirt as he speaks, lips dragging over his shirt as he forms each word.

Zayn’s heart races in his chest, pulling Harry impossibly closer as he nuzzles his face into Harry’s hair, the ringlets and curls dancing across his face as he does so, kissing at his scalp regardless as he holds back the choke of a sob that’s clambering up his throat at the rawness of Harry’s voice.

“I missed you too,” He brushes a hand down Harry’s back, fingering at the dips there as he turns his head to press it against Harry’s cheek.  “I missed you so much, so damn much.”

He swallows down the crack in his voice, teasing his fingers underneath Harry’s apron to feel the smoothness of his skin, the gentle heat simmering under his fingertips, to feel what he’s missed for so long, what he hid from like a scared little boy.

How he didn’t quite blame Harry, but resented him for the words that he tried so hard to escape, the looks of rejection and disgust that he’s shielded himself from for so long shooting down into his skin like blazing arrows, burning his flesh and leaving him to run, scared.

His mind flits to how he used Harry as his scapegoat, as the one thing he could blame for what happened, how it would have been fine, had he not been there and tempted Zayn to twist his fingers between his, to urge him to press closely into his side.

The words are like hot oil in his mind, splashing up and burning away the happiness that Harry had painted there, stripping away the memories and thoughts he holds the closest to his heart and leaving them burnt, stained messes on the walls of his mind.

The sneers and repulsed looks send a shiver down his spine, reminding him of the hatred that had sat in the drunken pools, pupils dilated and stained in a whisky mist as they leant back against the graffiti-clad wall, bottles of booze still clutched between their drunken fingers as they fell into one another, barely able to hold their half-empty bottles, let alone their own weight.

He hears the words clear as day in his brain, the words like knives in his mind as he just holds Harry in his arms, breathing him in, setting his breathing to Harry’s as he settles his thoughts, organising them and stripping them of the hateful comments, locking them up with the others that he’s experienced over the years, that he’s managed to trap in the darkest shadow of his mind, locked up tight with no chance of escape.

“Zee?”

Harry’s bright green eyes pull him from his thoughts, his hands still wrapped tight around his slender waist as he holds him close to his chest, Harry’s head hanging slightly higher than his own as he looks up at the Cheshire-born boy.

“I need to get back to work,” His voice sounds amused yet regretful as Zayn’s eyes widen, remembering where they are, what time of day it is and what he should and shouldn’t be doing in the back room of the bakery.

His cheeks flush red when he spies Barbara sitting out on the shop floor behind the counter, tapping in numbers on the till keypad before hanging over change and baked goods to the customer in front of her.

“Don’t worry about it, Harry!”  She calls, ducking her head back into the room with a warm smile on her lips and a knowing look in her eyes.  “Deborah’s supposed to be coming in later and I can handle without you for a short while.”

She smiles across at them, watching the clutching embrace the pair of them has on one another, their knuckles turning white under the pressure of their hold.  “Now you go, I expect you bright and early tomorrow morning,” Her attention falls on Zayn the moment she’s stopped smiling across at Harry, her eyes turning cold instantly.  “And you had better not break his heart again; I can’t bear to see that again.”

He nods his head instantly, stroking his hand through the curls of Harry’s hair, tucking loose strands back behind the bandana carefully as he looks him in the eye, his emerald eyes shimmering under the dull light of the bakery.

“I won’t, I promise, because I can’t bear to see it again, either.” He strokes his finger across Harry’s jaw, thumbing at the lobe of his ear gently, where the tiny golden loop is pushed through, playing with it as he speaks directly to him.  “Love you, Hazza Bear.”

Harry frowns momentarily at the nickname before he pulls Zayn in close, breathing hot and heavy over his lips, smirk plastered on his pink lips.  “Love you too, Zaynie Poo.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, cheeks flushing when he realises that Barbara’s watching them, hearing their nicknames, before he can’t think of anything but the brush of Harry’s soft lips against his own, how the swell of his tongue licks at the seam of his lips before pulling away with a smile, dimples punched into his cheeks.

Zayn can’t even begin to protest when Harry grabs his hand, smiling wildly as he entwines their fingers before pulling him from the bakery and out into the cool February air, the sun dancing high in the sky, not a single cloud in sight as they run, laughs bouncing around them as Harry guides them down the street; Zayn not caring where they go, so long as Harry’s forever there by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	119. Let you in (don't wanna miss you any longer)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title ideas, maybe?
> 
> Chapter title goes to MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh<3

The February sky is cool and dull above them, the sun fighting to get through the bulk of cloud that hangs heavy in the air, but fails miserably, just backlighting the mist and rain that wants to fall to the earth.

Harry’s hand is a comforting weight in his own, the press of his fingers against the back of his hand as they run, dodging around pedestrians that are heading in the opposite direction, their nameless faces shooting disgruntled looks their way, muttering curses about the youth of today as they pass by.

But that doesn’t matter.

None of that matters.

The words that people have to say can just get stuffed, get out of his mind and stop coating his body in scars and wounds that leave him coiling into himself; he doesn’t need them anymore.

His heart hammers in his chest at the thought of how he’s opening himself up to the hate, no longer wanting to shield himself from it, and instead holding his head high and leaving his arms to hang by his side, no longer trying to protect himself from words that hold nothing on him.

His families’ words hang heavy in his mind, how their disapproving looks had forced him away, how they’d _pushed_ him away just because he wasn’t like them.

Harry’s hand tightens around his fingers, pulling him from the memories that hurt the most as their feet continue to slap against solid concrete, paving slabs turning into greying tarmac before their falling down onto the spread of green grass, slightly discoloured by the frost that had clung to it earlier that morning.

When his mind arranges his thoughts properly the first thing he sees is bright green eyes, rimmed with lashings of dark lashes, orbs shining and happy as his dimples sink into his cheeks, pitting his skin as his curls spray out around his head like a halo against the sprigs of grass under him.

“Hey,” Harry whispers, lifting his head to nuzzle his nose against Zayn’s, eyes happy and glistening unearthly in the dullness of the day as Zayn lays on top of him, his hand still entwined with the Cheshire boy’s.

“Hey,” Zayn breathes, squeezing at Harry’s hand before lifting it to his lips, kissing at the crease between their hands softly.  “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Harry smiles, dimples still dipped into his cheeks as he watches Zayn above him with wide eyes, happy and bright and shining in a way that makes Zayn’s heart swell in his chest, growing and pushing against his ribs.

They just lay with each other awhile then, Zayn laid over the top of Harry as the thickness of the grass underneath them teeters its way across their skin, brushing at all of the exposed bits it can find.

“So,” Zayn breaths, rolling to the side so that his full weight isn’t on Harry, feeling self-conscious when he realises that he’s literally sprawled across the curly haired boy, no doubt squashing him, but Harry’s too much of a gentleman to say anything.

Harry frowns as he moves away, tucking his arm under Zayn’s back and pulling him back tight to his side, award-winning smile on show as he does so, eyes shining.  “So,” He plays with the hem of Zayn’s shirt, fingers tucking under the material and brushing against the skin of his lower back, Zayn keening into his touch, Harry smiling wider at his reaction.

Zayn rolls his eyes at his boyfriend, teasing his lip between his teeth as he moves to fall deeper into Harry’s side, savouring the heat of his skin, the press of their bodies. 

“I’m sorry I was an arse,” He whispers, tapping at Harry’s chin when he goes to protest, shushing the curly haired boy instantly.  “And don’t say I wasn’t, because I was and I know I was.”  He runs his finger over the tendon in Harry’s neck, feels how it twists under his skin as he turns his head to look at him.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for blaming you for what happened and running away from you because of it.” He sucks in a breath, not quite expecting the honesty to come rushing out of him the way it has when he’d started this conversation.

“It was a childish thing to do and I know that I shouldn’t have done it and I promise I won’t ever again, because it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” He laughs humourlessly at himself, trying to avoid the indescribable look in Harry’s eyes. 

“It felt horrible, just knowing that you weren’t here with me, that I couldn’t turn to you when I was watching TV and point out something that had made me laugh, that you weren’t there to use that extra cupful of water I always put into the kettle, that I couldn’t see you laugh at the slightest of things, and - as cheesy as it sounds - it broke my heart.”

He plays with Harry’s curls, trying to distract himself from all of the words he’s spewing out, all of the truths he’s revealing to Harry, leaving nothing to protect himself as he speaks, letting it all out in a way he’s never done before, but that’s what Harry does to him, makes him question why he’s never tried before, what’s stopping him from doing something new.

“It hurt just knowing that I was me that let you go, that it was my fault that you weren’t with me, that you were so near yet so far because of how I acted.  Knowing that had I just sucked up my pride that I could have had you with me, that I wouldn’t have had to tinker and mess with the one thing that I actually wanted.”

Harry’s chest rises and falls under his head rhythmically, the steady up, down, up, down of it making Zayn smile, remembering the lazy mornings they’d have where they’d nestle themselves up in bed and just let the day flutter on past them as they spoke in quiet whispers and early morning kisses laced with morning breath that they couldn’t fault, too engrossed in each other to care.

He wants more of them, wants to test just how long he can keep Harry cooped up in bed for, how long he can convince him to stay with him as the world buzzes by around them, ignoring the troubles that want to tamper with their joy.

Harry’s lips are on his as he thinks of the future he wants, scaring him as he’s never been one to look too far ahead in life as everything can break down with a single crack, can shatter under the tiniest of influences until there’s nothing left, nothing but the remnants of broken pieces that cut you as you try to put them back together again.

But he does.

He wants to think of what may happen, what if they did this, how would that turn out if they did whatever, when would this happen if they got around to finishing that.

He smiles at his mind’s use of plurals, lips sealing against Harry’s own as their teeth clash and their tongues twine, twisting together until their fingers are white with the force of their holds and their breaths are hot and heavy against the other’s face.

Zayn follows Harry’s lips when he pulls away, not wanting to break the contact between them when he’d felt so sure of himself for the first time in almost a week with Harry so close to him, showing him himself so easily, regardless of the fact he had previously torn him to shreds and made him cry in his boss’ arms.

“It broke my heart too,” Harry whispers, dropping a chaste kiss to Zayn’s lips as he pulls him into his arms, wrapping them around his waist and pulling him impossibly closer, their clothes damp with the wetness of the grass below them.  “And it’s not your fault; never your fault, Zee.”

He strokes his fingers through Zayn’s hair then, toying with the strands before a chill runs down his spine, cursing lightly under his breath.  “Why did I choose to lay us on the damp grass when there’s a perfectly good bench right behind us?”

Zayn snorts out a laugh when he spies the wooden fixture about a meter behind them, perched in the middle of the grassed area before Harry pokes at his cheek, telling him to shush and not laugh at him.

He chuckles, squeezing at Harry’s hand as neither boy makes any move to head towards the bench, their clothes already wet and their minds too sated with one another to care for much else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	120. Chapter 120

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you guys know, I'm going on holiday next Friday, so the last update may be on Thursday, depending on what time we leave on Friday. I don't know whether I'll be able to post or even write anything whilst I'm away, so there may not be anymore updates until the week after but I'll let you know nearer the time:)

Niall scuttles into work the next day, smile transfixed to his lips having woken to Louis hopping around in the kitchen, trying to cook the pair of them breakfast, Niall’s basketball shirt hanging loosely over his shoulders as the smell of bacon drifted around him with Michael Bublé singing softly in the background.

“What’s got you so happy?” Ed chimes as he enters the staff room, smiling despite himself.  He tries to school his smile but can’t, giving it up as a bad job as Ed continues to talk around him.  “Honestly, you’ve been smiling for the past two weeks!  What’s happened that you’re not telling me?  You win the lottery or something?”

Niall shakes his head.  “Just happy,” He grins, poking his name badge through the thin material of his polo as Ed watches him, amused, reaching across to punch at Niall’s shoulder playfully.

“Well that’s a load of bull,” Niall punches him back in retaliation, Ed smirking across at him regardless.  “It’s someone special, isn’t it?”  Niall’s cheeks light up as bright as his smile, eyes soft just at the mere thought; Louis. 

“I’m right, aren’t I?”  Ed sounds excited as he bobs up and down on the spot, trailing Niall when he tries to escape his ginger friend, ducking out of the door and back onto the shop floor in the hopes of escaping the older boy.

“I know I’m right,” He chuckles, following after him and poking his finger into his back, pulling at the hem of his shirt to get him to face him, to let his face tell him if he’s right, wanting the satisfaction of it.

“Who says you are?” Niall says, ducking his head as he reaches his till point, typing his employee code into the system and watching it buzz to life.  He tries for nonchalance; he doesn’t seem to manage it.

“Your face,” Ed smirks, reaching out to poke at Niall’s cheek, eyes bright with enjoyment at the whole scenario.  “And also the fact that you drift off into space with a faraway look in your eye, smiling like there’s nothing bad in the world.  That also screams _I’m in love.”_

Niall shakes himself out of his head, lets Ed’s words take hold of him and rattle him around a bit.  “There’s no one.”  He tries to stop the rampant thrum of his heart but cannot manage it, the organ speeding up in his chest as he ignores the flutter in his stomach.

Ed quirks an eyebrow at him, but he chooses to ignore it, avoiding his eyes as he sets up his cashier point, Ed stretched across it.  “There’s someone.” He decides, reaching over to poke at Niall’s chest.  “There’s someone that’s huddled up inside there that you’re not telling me about.”

“There’s no one,” He says, cheeks flushing as he tries to keep eye contact with Ed, knowing that he’ll point him out on it if he doesn’t try to, if he doesn’t try to look as if he’s not lying.  “I promise, there’s no one, I’ve just been in a really good mood recently, honest.”

Ed continues to keep eye contact with him, just watching him and not really doing anything else, his eyes reading deep into his soul, seemingly baring him with each glance, sneaking looks into the secrets of his soul.

Niall’s cheeks feel hot under all of the attention, how Ed’s watching him with such wise and knowing eyes, as if he’s been there and done it all and can see what Niall’s hiding, can see all of the things he’s already experienced hidden under Niall’s facade.

When Niall’s eyes start to burn from not blinking for a while, Ed drops his attention from his face and over to the man in the matte grey suit that’s heading towards them, directing their fellow employees into their aisles and stations, their boss fixing up his workers before the supermarket opens to the public.

“You’d tell me though, wouldn’t you?” Ed asks as he brushes his knuckles against Niall’s forearm, lifting his eyes to meet his own again, the blue bright and full of wisdom that Niall wants to know, wants to ask about but doesn’t want to just yet, doesn’t feel he should when he’s hiding what Ed wants to know.  “You’d tell me if there was someone.”

“Of course I would,” Niall chokes, words spewing out quickly, trying to keep his voice even and from not spiking up in the middle as he wrings his wrists with his hands, conscience screaming, telling him that he should tell Ed the truth, should tell him that maybe there is someone, but not someone, how there’s someone in his life, but their kind of not.

The devil on his shoulder, however, wins, shooting down the goodness that had wanted Niall to pour out the truth, to tell Ed everything and ask his opinion, to have someone to talk to, someone to ask.

He knows he sounds like a girl, but he doesn’t care.  This is the first person he’s ever felt something for that isn’t a fleeting crush or an affection that wears away once the initial attraction wears off, and he wants to know, wants to be told what to do, be taught how to act, because he doesn’t want to throw this away.

The words sit on the back of his tongue, _it’s Louis_ , but they don’t come, his mouth and his mind conflicting with one another, setting each other back until there’s nothing left of them from their violent conflict and his body is just an empty shell.

He looks across to the end of his counter, Ed gone due to the fact he’s sat in his seat in his till point opposite him, grinning at his first customer of the day, like Niall should be doing; but he’s obviously not very good at doing things he should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	121. Chapter 121

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another one of those chapter that I can't decide if I like

He thinks he sees Louis out of the corner of his eye as he works, serving a ginger woman with a screaming child in her arms, trying to load her shopping back into carrier bags, unsuccessfully.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like any help?” He asks, picking up one of the plastic carrier bags and trying to peel it open for her, being rewarded by a piercing look that makes him shrivel away, back into his seat.

She leaves soon enough, hands full of shopping and a child and Niall can’t seem to care, doesn’t care for her when he’d only tried to help her and she’d more or less shot daggers at him.

 Once she’s away and out of the shop, she still sticks in Niall’s mind, making his knuckles twist into tight fists under the counter, teeth bared and eyes narrowed.  He hates people sometimes, he really does.

She taints his mind with her piercing look throughout the rest of his shift until Ed pulls him into his side, poking at his cheek and smiling sadly at him.  “Where’d your smile go?”

He can’t manage to force a smile onto his lips, however, just inches them up glumly as they walk into the break room, their break too early to be classed as a lunch break but too late not to be.  It’s a bit rubbish, really; he hates being in a bad mood.

“It’s gone nowhere.” He says, continuing on his way to the break room, Ed by his side as they silently decide to stay there for their break, not bothering to head to Liam’s, the chill too cool in the air to venture out without the necessity to.

He sinks down in one of the sofas in the room, hoisting his feet up onto the coffee table in front of him before crossing his arms behind his head and stretching out.  “One of the customers just got to me, it’s nothing though.”

“That ginger woman?” Niall nods, shifting over on the sofa to let Ed have a space on the cushion next to his.  “Yeah, she seemed a bit pissy.”  He kicks his feet up next to Niall’s their shoes knocking together as he does so.  “Did she say something or what?”

Ed gets this look in his eyes, one reminds him of Greg back home, the way his eyebrows furrow slightly and his eyes darken minutely, the guarded slant that his shoulders fall into, as if he’s ready to do anything to protect him.  He smiles inside at the warmth that it wraps in his belly.

“Nah, it’s fine, she was just a bit pissy, is all.” Niall shrugs his shoulders, hoping to relieve the tense set of Ed’s.  “Honestly,” He pokes at Ed’s shoulder, feels the muscle that laces around the bone under his finger.  “It’s fine, she just got to me a bit, that’s all.”

Ed cocks his head to the side, watching Niall so closely that he ducks his head under the intensity of his gaze.  “You sure?”

“Yeah,” He goes to lift up his head, to tell Ed something to get rid of the furrow of his brows, the set of his jaw as he watches him but can’t think of anything, mind going blank the moment his phone buzzes in his pocket.

His face lights up in a wild grin before he can school it, before he can stop and compose himself just in case it’s not who he wants it to be and it’s just a message from, like, his mobile company instead.

Ed seems to notice his change in stature, twisting in his seat to watch him, feet kicking gently at his own when Niall just looks down at his pocket, hands still set behind his head, not daring to move, to feel the possible disappointment settle in his bones when he finds it’s not Louis.

“You not going to answer that, then?”

It’s only then that he realises that his phone has not only buzzed in his pocket but is also ringing, the sound merely an extended version of his text vibration, rattling the keys that sit heavy in his pocket, making it seem just that little bit louder in the quiet of the break room.

He makes a choked sound in the back of his throat; fingers curling in the hair at the back of his head as he tries to even out his breathing again, attempts to fix the flutter in his chest and the shake in his hands.

The noise continues to ring in the air, the vibrations sharp against his thigh as he sits, eyes wide as he tries so desperately to compose himself, Ed watching him confused.

He swallows when he inches his fingers into his pocket, pulling out his phone slowly, feeling something heavy sit in his chest when he drags his finger across the screen, accepting Louis’ call.

When he brings it to his ear he hears the roughness of sharp intakes of breath, the immediate huff and puff of breath as it fans out against the mouth piece, his ear burning with it as his mind goes into overdrive.

“Lou?”  He says, not quite knowing what to a.) do with himself and b.) say, as he sits up straight on the sofa, shoulders tensing like Ed’s had, his eyebrows furrowing just as deep and his eyes narrowing.

He doesn’t get any response, however, just an increased intake of breath and outtake of rushed puffs, the connection tinny and rattled in his ear as the noises come thick and heavy down the line, Niall’s mind rushing with thoughts that he can’t even begin to comprehend as the minutes tick by.

“Lou, are you okay?” That gets a tiny response, a hitch in the breath over the line that has Niall’s heart starting to slow down in his chest, no longer in a quite as rushed and bothered state as it had been, but still unnatural.  “Lou, talk to me please, you’re scaring me.”

His voice sounds desperate as he speaks but he doesn’t care, he’s been on the phone with the Doncaster boy for a good five minutes and only heard rushed and heavy breathing and his stomach jolts uncomfortably with it all, what could be happening, all of the thoughts rushing madly in his head that he can’t begin to think about them.

“I’m scared too.”

His heart shatters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	122. Chapter 122

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fobbed off is an English term for, like, tricking someone or deceiving them by saying something untrue. Google it if that made no sense - you probably should because that was an appalling explanation!

The shards of his heart slash and grind against his organs, slipping into their tenderness and leaving them in tattered ribbons encased within his rib cage, the remaining pieces continuing to cut through whatever they touch as they fall through his chest.

There’s a ringing in his ears that he can’t seem to shake away, a pounding in his ear drums that leaves him disorientated and confused as his body starts to shake, worry melting into his bones, his limbs, his mind.

“Lou, where are you?” His voice is shaky to his own ears, the cracks in his syllables making his words snap in two, breaking in the middle.

Hitched breaths and sniffles is all he hears in response, the noises becoming more and more distant the longer Louis stays on the line. 

“Lou?” He clenches his fists as he starts to head towards the door to the staff room, getting half way across to it before he gets anything like a response, a muffled _yeah_ that makes him sigh out in relief.  “What’s wrong, where are you?”

He hears heavy breaths and the slight rattle of a laugh that sounds just as broken as Louis’ voice had sounded just minutes prior.  He hates it.

“I don’t even know,” His voice still holds the hint of a broken laugh as he speaks.  “I don’t even know.” He sucks in a breath then, the noise heavy in Niall’s ear as he keeps himself held in one place in the middle of the staff room, Ed watching him nervously, ready to stand up and ask what’s wrong; he can feel it in the air of the room.

“You’re okay, though?” Niall whispers, fingers curling around the phone and pressing it closer to his ear so that he can pick up even the slightest difference in Louis’ voice, the difference between his happiness and his sadness.  “Right?”

Louis goes quiet on the other end of the phone but he can hear movement, the static from the action coming down the line. 

“I can’t see down the phone, Lou,” He chuckles, trying desperately to lighten the mood, to fix the broken rattle of Louis’ voice into something he recognises, instead of the shell that he’s got in his ear.

“I know,” Louis whispers, smiling around his words and the harsh slant of Niall’s shoulders falls just at that, hearing something close to happiness in Louis’ words. 

The line falls silent for a while, however, but Niall can still hear him, still hear the constant in-out of Louis’ breaths, knows he’s still there and he doesn’t want to push him, so he waits.

“I’m okay,” He whispers, static behind his words as he probably moves on the other end of the line, more than likely settling on the sofa with his feet tucked up under his knees, Niall thinks, his feet gradually sliding across the partition of the cushions the longer he sits before they’re outstretched in front of him and hanging over the edge of the sofa; Niall grins just at the thought.  “I just, I’m sorry.”

Niall’s smile falls from his lips immediately, eyebrows furrowing deeper than they previously had done.  “What are you sorry for?  You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Lou.”

“I didn’t mean to call you,” He sounds nowhere near happy but he laughs at himself anyway, something twisting tight in the pit of Niall’s stomach.  “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mind, I’m glad you did though,” He tries to get the right words to formulate on his tongue.  “I missed you,” He whispers that bit like a secret before laughing lightly at himself. “But anyway, are you okay now?”

“Yeah, I’m good, some stuff just happened,” Niall tries to ignore the crack in Louis’ voice, wants to give Louis some room, let him tell him why he sounded like he’d seen a ghost just minutes before instead of forcing it out of him, because he doesn’t think that’d be very fair.

“But yeah,” He coughs before speaking again.  “Yeah, I’m good,” He definitely doesn’t sound broken then and Niall most definitely doesn’t want to scream down the phone at him and tell him to stop _lying_ and to just _let him in._

He tries anyway, pushes just a little bit just to see if Louis will say anything more, if he’ll tell him why he was almost in tears when he first rang.  “You sure?”  He still thinks he’s being fair, having not asked a direct or overly intruding question.

“Course, Niall.” Niall doesn’t like how his full name falls off of Louis’ tongue at that moment, how he’s added the final few letters to it that he normally leaves behind, and it feels strange, hearing him say all of them. 

He doesn’t like it, not right now when he’s got his heart thumping wildly in his chest and his hands clenched into tight fists that are leaving crescent shaped marks in the palms of his hands due to the force of his hold.

He wants to ask more, he wants to do an Ed and ask him _if he’d tell him if there was something wrong_ , but he doesn’t want to break the pieces that he and Louis have joined up together, doesn’t want to throw it all away because he can’t contain his need to know more than Louis’ willing to expose to him.

“Good,” He sounds fake to his own ears, knows he sounds mildly pissed at the fact Louis’ hiding something from him, but Louis doesn’t seem to notice, either that or he just doesn’t want to pick him up on it.  “I’m glad.”

“Yeah,” Louis’ voice is more or less back to normal then, his voice no longer pitchy and squeaky in the middle, instead sounding almost like _Louis_.  “Anyway, you should be back at work,” Niall quickly peeks a look at the clock on the far wall, sees how it displays quarter past twelve and smiles despite himself at Louis.

“I should,” He agrees, grinning at Louis even when he knows he can’t see him.  “So I’ll text you later or something, yeah?”

“Yeah, now off to work, I don’t want to be the reason why you get fired.” Niall chuckles, tension seeping away from his body when Louis laughs back, the sound real and alive as it drifts into Niall’s ear through his phone.  “See ya, Ni,”

“Bye, Lou,” He says before hearing Louis ring off, the silence in his ear almost soothing before he lowers his phone from his ear, sliding it into his pocket and turning to face Ed, the worry prominent on his face.

“What’s wrong with Louis?” He inches forwards on the sofa, perching on the edge of the cushion as if ready to hear about Niall’s problems.  “You sounded as if you were going to cry at one point,” He whispers, looking at Niall softly, carefully, as if expecting him to do just that right in the middle of the staff room. 

Niall just might’ve if Louis hadn’t sounded happier when he rung off.

He shakes his head at himself, pinching at the meat of his thigh as he slides his phone back into his pocket there, feeling both frustrated and relieved at the same time as he sits down beside Ed, dropping his head on the ginger boy’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what was up with him, he didn’t say, just said something happened that scared him and that he didn’t mean to ring me, so who knows?” He laughs humourlessly at himself as he feels the frustration build up in his body.  “I’ve got no idea what upset him because he didn’t want to tell me about it, just fobbed me off with that.”

Ed’s arms are tight around his shoulders as he pulls him in close.  “Maybe he didn’t even know himself,” Ed tries, stroking his fingers through the strands of Niall’s hair.  “Perhaps he just needed to hear a friendly voice to help calm him down.”

Niall shrugs his shoulders, not even bothering to argue with Ed about it when he needs to be back at work, standing up out of Ed’s embrace, wordlessly. 

“We need to go back to work, don’t want to get sacked.”  Is all he says in explanation when Ed eyes him confused as Niall opens the staff room door, slipping through it back out onto the shop floor.  “Louis doesn’t want to be the one to get me sacked, better abide by his wishes.”

He walks back to his cashier booth before Ed can speak to him, not wanting to hear what he has to say when he feels how he does, knowing he’ll just bite his head off in frustration, and Ed doesn’t deserve that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	123. Chapter 123

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit short, I'm sorry, but I hope you like it? Let me know, maybe? Feedback is much appreciated, makes me work harder to please you guys<3

His breath is choppy as it grapples up his throat, forcing its way out of his too tight lungs and leaving a burning sensation in his chest, tears coating his eyelashes as he drops whatever food product he’d been holding in his hands, the metal casing of it crashing and denting against the tiles of the supermarket floor; but he can’t process it, can’t even begin to care about it.

His mind is far too rushed, the tremors dancing their way along his limbs, down his legs and leaving him a shaking mess as he steps back, the cool of the metal shelves keeping him stock-still in the middle of the aisle.

His heart is hammering in his chest as he sees him, sees the black hair and the deadness of his eyes, the menacing quirk of his lips and he doesn’t even need to take another look to check, he _knows_ it’s him, can just _see_ it’s him.

Their eyes meet and he can barely keep himself conscious with the way his mind is rushing and his heart is hammering, fingers curling into tight fists around the shelves behind himself as he tries to move, tries to get his body to _cooperate_ and _move_ and just _get out of the way_.

He feels his lungs collapse before he notices the effects of it, just feels the sudden dip in his organs and how he can barely catch his breath, cheeks flushing as he tries desperately to suck in the air he needs, what his body needs to be able to move.

He feels his eyes go wide and feels the deep, penetrating stares from the people around him that are watching him curiously, peering over their shoulders to see what’s wrong and what gossip they can get to tell their friends later on when they’ve paid for their shopping and toddled off back home to their perfect families; forgetting the boy in the middle of the baked bean aisle and how his eyes had widened as if he was seeing his life flash before his eyes, how his body had shook so violently he had to cling to the shelving units to stand any chance at staying upright.

When his lungs finally open back up, pulling in the air that’s left him clinging for balance, he darts.

He doesn’t even open his eyes, can’t face the fact that his eyes have just met the man that had ruined his life, doesn’t want to accept the fact that he’d been anywhere near him, that he’s just so close to him, as if he can’t hide.  It scares him shitless, so he just darts.

He feels the change from the air conditioned air in the supermarket fall into a deeper chill, wind whipping about around him, but he doesn’t actually notice it.  Doesn’t realise that he’s actually left the shop and that’s he’s slaloming through the car park, drivers honking at him in frustration as he weaves in and out of them, just needing to escape.

He just keeps running.

He runs until he can’t anymore, his feet feeling heavy on the ends of his legs and his heart beating so rapidly in his chest it could probably beat that of a race horses’ after a derby.  He’s willing to bet on it, actually.

Once he’s finally stopped, he finds himself outside of a tall, redbrick building that sends chills down his spine and electricity through his fingers.  He looks behind  himself to check he hasn’t been followed before pulling open the door quickly and sprinting up the stairs, mind too far gone to even think about what he’s doing as he slides the key into the lock, turning it until it clicks and he’s in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out any of my other work, if you'd like:)


	124. Chapter 124

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is what 150,000 words looks like, huh? It's a little strange, I never expected to let this story get this long.
> 
> If you have any chapter title ideas, please let me know:)

The flat feels eerie without Niall in it, the brightness of his smile lighting up even the smallest pockets of darkness, blasting away the shadows and beaming like a human sunshine.

But without him, Louis feels like an intruder.

It feels almost as if he’s looking from the outside in as he walks around, eyes looking over all of the things he’s yet to see and realigning the things that he knows, that’s he’s learnt about and seen from Niall.

He doesn’t like it without him.

The apartment feels cold around him, the radiators warm as he presses his hand against them, but the air still feels thick with something, something that’s sucking the life and happiness from Niall’s home.

He feels the clench in his stomach as he thinks about it, thinks about how it’s cold when only he’s here, as if it’s him that’s destroying the happiness that had been plastered across every surface of the apartment, as if it’s him that’s torn at it and ripped it away, ruined it for Niall.

His heart feels heavy at the realisation, at the fact that he could be the one sucking the life out of the one person that he wants to stay as bright as the sun.  And that hurts.

The tears prick at his eyes before he can stop them, before he can swallow them back down an remember that he’s safe, that he’s escaped the man that ripped away each and every piece of Louis’ normal life and threw it to the floor like it was nothing.

His stomach twists inside of him as he leans back against the wall, his arm brushing against the side table that’s filled with Niall’s family photographs and trinkets, smiling faces captured in ink staring at him as he sinks down to the ground, salty tears brimming his eyes.

He wraps his arms around his knees as he leans back, tips his head so that he can try to pull in comforting breaths, so that he can try to cease the tears and prevent them from falling down his face.

He feels childish as the shock finally catches up to him, sending shuddering breaths through his body, rattling his bones and making his chest cease up as he wipes viciously at his eyes, ridding them of the lashings of sadness.

The intense, almost teasing darkness seeps into his vision as he clenches his eyes shut, the push and pull and tug and twist of the man on his body, fingers grappling tight around his flesh, nails sinking in and breaking the skin.

He knows he’s just remembering it, reliving it in his mind, but it doesn’t help him at all, he can still feel the heaviness of it in his body, how it’s making him shake harder, sob a little louder, his tears falling a little faster.

Louis’ body slides down the wall as he curls up into a ball, clinging so tightly to himself, trying so hard to push away the memories, the thoughts, the images, the feel of him on his skin, how he’s torn at his normality the same as he’d done to his flesh.

The thin lines of his lips crumple up as he tries to stop his tears, their tracks tacky on his cheeks as he tries to wipe them away, Niall’s key digging into his thigh but not calming him fast enough.

“Lou?”

He chokes on a sob at the Irish lilt, tight lipped smile forming on his face as he tries to compose himself, not wanting to sound as broken as he is, trying to stop his tears and just focus on Niall’s voice, have a _normal_ conversation, because he’s _normal_.

“Lou, are you okay?” He shakes his head sadly, knows that Niall can’t see it and is glad as he clenches his eyes shut, lets the flutters of colours dance over them as he squeezes them closed before opening them again, but he’s still there, he’s still alone and his nightmare hasn’t ended.  “Lou, talk to me please, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m scared too.” He chokes out, hearing the concern in Niall’s voice, how it cracks around his words and breaks in the middle, leaving him with heavy words and broken sentences.  It breaks his heart, just knowing that he’s having such an effect on Niall when he has no idea what’s wrong; it makes something twinge in his stomach.

“Lou, where are you?” His voice is shaky to Louis’ ears, the cracks in his syllables making his words snap in two, breaking in the middle and crumbling down the line. “Lou?”

Louis can’t even form the words he wants, the syllables sitting heavy on his tongue and leaving him gasping for breath, breath that he can’t pull into his collapsed lungs.  “Yeah,”

Niall puffs out a breath down the line as Louis feels a lone tear trickle down his cheek, skimming over the tip of his nose as it falls off the end, landing on the soft fibres of Niall’s carpet.

“What’s wrong, where are you?”

He laughs at himself before he answers that question, not quite knowing how to answer it.  _Yeah, I’m at your flat because I think I just saw my rapist in your place of work, not that you know I’ve been raped because I’m yet to tell you, but yeah, that’s why I’m at your flat and crying on your living room floor, sorry to worry you._

He doesn’t even want to think of the response he’d get if he said that.

 “I don’t even know,” He feels frustrated with himself then, with how he’s come running to Niall’s flat and just _depends_ on him, how he can’t look after himself.  “I don’t even know.” He sucks in a breath then, the noise heavy in the quiet of Niall’s apartment as he slowly uncurls his hand, playing with the fibres of Niall’s carpet with it.

“You’re okay, though?” Niall whispers “Right?”

 _Yeah, that’s what he is._  

“I can’t see down the phone, Lou,” Niall chuckles, as if sensing the fact that Louis’ just shook his head, it makes his stomach flip and he literally doesn’t have the emotional capacity to question it, not when dark eyes and hair are creeping into his mind again from the darkest of shadows.

“I know,” Louis whispers, smiling around his words, lips feeling cracked and a little sore under the movement but he can’ help it, not when it’s Niall he’s talking to, anyway.

 “I’m okay,” He whispers, static behind his words as he moves around the floor, uncurls himself and leans back against the wall, feet tucked up under his legs as he tries to remove the slight crack in his voice.  “I just, I’m sorry.”

 “What are you sorry for?  You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Lou.” Niall assures, his voice so goddamn _honest_ and Louis doesn’t know what to do with that, can’t process it yet.

“I didn’t mean to call you,” He blurts, the silence between them becoming too much and needing to fill it with something, may it be the worst thing he’s ever said or the best. 

It seems to be the worse, however, as he hears the gentle, guarded sigh come through the line, the shuffle and static from Niall’s end of the line. 

“I’m sorry.”  He whispers, fingers clenching around his mobile as he leans back against the wall, banging his head lightly against it, lips crumpling back up into a frustrated frown as he pictures the look on Niall’s face.

“I don’t mind, I’m glad you did though,” Louis doesn’t want to read too deeply into his words but he has to, feeling the affection for the blonde boy grow in his chest.  “But anyway, are you okay now?”

He nods his head again before he notices what he’s doing, smiling at himself as he remembers how Niall had sound amused when he’d done it the first time.

“Yeah, I’m good, some...”  He swallows his tongue, trying to figure out the words he wants, what he can say without actually telling Niall, just letting him in on the basics, “Stuff just happened,”

He sounds fake to his own ears.

“But yeah,” He coughs before speaking again.  “Yeah, I’m good,” He definitely doesn’t sound broken then, his tears threatening to well up in his eyes again because of what he’s doing to Niall with his lies, how he’s twisting the truth and how it’ll hurt more later; but he can’t ruin it now, as selfish as that seems.

 “You sure?”  He wants to cry, he really does, mauling his lip in grievance, piercing it between his teeth as he pinches at his skin in annoyance.

“Course, Niall.” He nearly chokes on the words, the heaviness of them on his tongue as he quickly spits them out down the line, needing Niall to stop asking such innocent questions that leave his heart on the back of his tongue, threatening to spew out or choke him.

 “Good, I’m glad.”

“Yeah,” He rubs at his eyes tiredly, brushing away the final few tears that had built up on his lashes.  “Anyway, you should be back at work.”  He wants to sound teasing, wants their conversation to go back to the normal banter that they have, the comfortable understanding they normally have; but he’s not sure he manages it.

 “I should,” Niall agrees, grinning around his words; Louis can hear it down the phone and he wants to scream, want to tell him to ask him some more questions, to make him crack and break and open up and stop hiding everything from him when he’s so willing to open up each and every piece of his life for him.  “So I’ll text you later or something, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis nibbles on his thumb nail.  “Now off to work, I don’t want to be the reason why you get fired.” Niall chuckles, tension seeping away from Louis’ body momentarily before he remembers why it’s there and all of the lies he’s told to put it there. “See ya, Ni,”

“Bye, Lou,”

He may or may not cry himself to sleep on Niall’s living room floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	125. Chapter 125

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all comments you have would be massively appreciated, they make me want to work harder to please you guys:)
> 
> And just so you know, tomorrow might be the last update for a week as I'm going on holiday on Friday and depending on what time we leave I may not have time to update and there probably won't be any internet where I'm going, so I'm sorry<3

He feels Louis before he sees him, feels his skin as it’s hit with the wood of the door as he opens it, hears the soft puff of his breath as he rolls away, voice soft and lazy in Niall’s ears.

“Lou, what’re you doing?” He whispers, poking his head around the door to check the smaller boy is out of the way, that he won’t get hit with the door when he swings it open.

Louis’ eyes stay shut, his hands making small grappling motions at his shoulder as his tongue rolls around in his mouth, as if he’s toying with the idea of waking up, but his body’s winning, keeping him in his dreamland.

He smiles affectionately at the smaller boy as he slowly pushes the door open wide enough to allow himself access to his home, slipping inside and tiptoeing around Louis.

“Lou?” He whispers, dropping down onto the floor beside Louis’ head, running his fingers through the straggly ends of Louis’ hair, teasing the knots out with his fingertips.

He doesn’t get any response but a huff of air that blows hot across the knee of his jeans as he smiles down at the brunette boy, just watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the dainty flutter of his eyelashes.

He leans back against the wall behind him to get a better look at Louis, the boy so soft and fragile when he sleeps, the blue of his eyes shielded from the world and the arch of his cheekbones stark against his sleep-flushed cheeks.

The Doncaster boy wiggles slightly in his sleep, his face rubbing along the fibres of Niall’s carpet as he does so, but he seems content where he is, his lips perking up on his face as he dreams dreams that Niall can only imagine.

He images Louis dreams of football teams and his family, dreams of his friends and how they mess around when they have time, laughing and drinking and enjoying the life they’re living, the youth that they still get to bask in.

He wonders how Louis looks when he’s got whisky on his tongue, when his hair is mussed from running his hands through it too often as the liquid confidence settles in his stomach, staining his tongue and making Niall drunk just at the remnants that sit on his lips.

He shakes his head at himself, keeping his fingers in Louis’ hair, the older boy moaning slightly in his sleep at the touch, cocking his head up under Niall’s hand for more, and all he can do is smile and just watch and _admire_ Louis.

Louis is designed to be admired, Niall thinks, just watching and letting his mind run free, no one there to judge him but himself, no need to hide his thoughts when nobody’s there to question them.

He skims his eyes across the arch of Louis’ eyebrows, watches how they dip down and join his nose, meeting in the middle of his face, lips a bitten pink underneath. 

He thinks of how Louis’ eyes look when they’re open, the vibrant blue so breathtaking that Niall may have fallen asleep one night trying desperately to accurately name it.

His mind dances to the broadness of Louis’ smile, all of the different types that sit upon his lips, depending on how he feels.  He grins as he thinks of the wide, toothy smile that rarely comes out, a tiny, timid smile often taking its place or a small, tight-lipped smile that looks much more forced than Louis must realise, sitting on his lips.

He feels the softness of Louis’ hair under his fingers, like expertly woven silk under his skin as he weaves his hands through it, scratching affectionately at his scalp when he keens into the touch.

He toys with the short hairs at the nape of Louis’ neck, twisting them around his fingers and playing with the ends as Louis continues to breathe hotly against the knee of his jeans, shuffling in his sleep every once in awhile to get comfy again.

Louis is one of a kind; he’s the only person that Niall can actually see himself wanting to be around for the rest of his life.  Sure, he wants to be around Liam and Zayn, but they’re not the same as Louis.  With them, he wants them to be there, obviously, but he doesn’t want them to be _everywhere_.

He doesn’t want to feel them under his fingers, feel their breaths dance along his flesh, hear their voices echo in his ear, to have their scent be on his pillows or their toothbrush be next to his own.  He wants that with Louis, or at least he thinks he does when his heart hammers and his stomach flips just at the mere thought.

He doesn’t know, he’s never been in love, never been in anything even remotely close to love, really.  Sure, he’s been attracted to people - many people - but he’s never felt quite like this, never felt so _close_ to someone he, technically, barely knows.

He’s never been unsure when he’s walked up to someone in a bar or a pub and charmed them off of their feet more or less the moment he opened his mouth, really.  Zayn blames the Irish accent; Niall doesn’t see how that helps at all, really.  But he does it.  He’s able to approach people and feel something buzzing in his veins, may it just be the thrill of the moment, but he feels something. 

But with Louis, it’s something else.

He feels this raging fire in the pit of his stomach every time he speaks to him, he feels a pull so strong in his stomach that it sometimes makes him twist and squirm in pain.  His heart goes light in his chest, as if high, staying sky high even after Louis’ gone or he’s texted back saying he’s off to sleep. 

It’s still there.

He’s felt it since that first day, since he first laid eyes on the smaller boy, when he saw him in Harry’s apartment, wrapped up tight in blankets with messy hair and shrunken eyes.  He felt it when he first felt Louis tense up next to him, the hesitation rolling off of him in thick, potent waves as they’d chatted in the stagnant air of the pub.

He could sense it in his bones, this change within himself as he’d ducked his head to Louis’, ready to listen to whatever he had to say, just wanting to hear him properly, to place all of his undivided attention on him.

He’d felt the shift inside himself when he’d thrown back his drink, leaving a purposeful foam moustache across his face just to see what Louis’ smile looked like up close, to hear what the tiny jingles of his laugh actually sounded like when they went directly into his ear.

He hadn’t even known him then; hadn’t know that he supported Manchester United and Doncaster Rovers, that he was from Doncaster, that he had four sisters, that his mum had divorced when he’d just left school, that his favourite colour was red and that he liked to roll his trousers up when he thought no one was watching, that he’s not really a fan of baked beans but likes to eat pasta cold, stealing pieces of it from the fridge whenever he goes to it.

He hadn’t known any of that, but he’d known that there was something, some invisible pull that made him want to be attached to Louis, wanted to be near him at all costs. 

He just doesn’t want to name it; doesn’t want to tempt fate too much, not when it can all break down so quickly.

“Niall?” Louis’ voice is hoarse and groggy with sleep as he speaks, rubbing at his eyes as he slowly opens them, the blues of his eyes bright in the darkness of the room, the sun having set long before Niall came back home.

“Yeah, I’m here,” He scratches at Louis’ scalp in a gentle hello, bringing him back to consciousness again, his eyes rolling back into his head as he rearranges himself on the floor, twisting under Niall’s hand but never pulling away, keeping his head as close to Niall’s fingers as possible.

“Good, I was waiting for you,” He slowly sits on his knees, leaning back against the wall beside Niall, tipping his head to the side tiredly, his breaths hot against Niall’s throat as he breaths, Louis’ eyes slowly shutting once again.  “I’m sorry for calling you earlier, I bet I worried you.”

“It’s fine, so long as you are okay,” He watches Louis carefully, but the brunette boy just keeps his eyes shut and tips his head deeper into Niall’s neck, his body pliant with sleep.

“M’okay,” He whispers, lips brushing against Niall’s pulse point as Niall wraps his arm around Louis’ waist, pulling them closer together as he breaths Louis in, remembers his scent, knowing he won’t be able to live without it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	126. Chapter 126

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally dedicate this chapter to niallsfriedchicken, who without I don't know how I'd have picked myself up off the ground and enjoyed writing this again. You probably don't even know it, but you helped me far more than you'll ever believe<3
> 
> And just so you know, I'm going on holiday tomorrow, so today's update will probably be the last one until next weekend, depending on what time I leave tomorrow:) I hope you all have a good Easter break, you all deserve it!
> 
> Also, massive thank you to everyone that has left kudos - I hit 200 kudos today!! It means so much, thank you to each and everyone of you! I love you<3

The pair of them fall into each other pretty easily, despite what had happened earlier in the day, smiling small at each other as they eat across from one another at Niall’s kitchen table, feet occasionally brushing against each other’s as they move.

“That was delicious,” Louis smiles, wiping at his top lip to check that there’s nothing there; Niall just grins affectionately, watching Louis like there’s nothing else for him to look at.

“Thank you,” He brushes his foot up Louis’ ankle as he speaks, the smaller boy grinning lazily across at him as he leans back in his chair, patting at his belly.  “’M so full,” He chuckles, throwing his head back and stretching his arms out behind himself, joints popping as he does so.

Louis’ smiling across at him when Niall slowly lifts his head, the blue of Louis’ eyes intense and bright in the dim lighting of the room, his skin golden and soft looking under the hue of the light above them.

Niall has to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something cheesy, something that will either make Louis blush or laugh in his face: he doesn’t want to risk it.

“I’m full too,” Louis says, rubbing at his stomach as he piles his cutlery onto his plate, rising from his seat to pick up Niall’s plate before Niall pushes him away, tells him he can do it, that Louis’ the guest. 

“You cooked, so I’ll clean.” Louis reasons, pulling away from Niall’s hand and walking off to the other side of the kitchen, as if he knows he’s won.

Niall pinches himself when he realises he’s staring, leant back on the back legs of his chair so that he can watch Louis, his hands dipped into the milky suds of the dishwater as he scrubs at their plates, ridding them of the stains of bolognaise and the leftover strings of pasta that had stuck to their shiny surfaces.

The whole situation seems very domestic to Niall, can’t say he’s ever just wanted to watch someone clean before in his life, but he does with Louis, and it doesn’t scare him.  It just makes a twinge of heat twist its way around his stomach and his lips curve up into a smile.

Louis squawks when he presses his head to the back of his neck, Niall’s hair mixing into Louis’ as  they press into one another, Louis’ scent gentle under Niall’s nose as they just stand there, feet socked against the cool of the tiled floor.

“You like it back there?” Louis chuckles, reaching his hand back to squeeze at Niall’s hands that have wrapped around his waist, his hands wet and wrinkled from the dishwater.

He nods his head against the back of Louis’ neck, teasing the skin with his teeth playfully before Louis squeaks again and he begins to laugh into the soft flesh of Louis’ neck, amused by the sound he pulled from between Louis’ lips. 

“Shut up,” Louis mumbles, dipping his hands back into the bowl and scrubbing once again, occasionally nuzzling his head back into Niall’s when he nibbles a little too hard.

Niall’s likes how Louis’ skin feels under his teeth as they trail along it, his lips catching on the flesh as he moves them over it, not quite confident enough to press his lips along it also, to taste it on his tongue.

They seem to stand like that for hours, the world passing on around them in bright blurs of broken headlights and laughing humans outside the window, nothing able to interrupt them when they’re with one another.

“Ni?” Louis whispers, leaning his head back against Niall’s, the slight difference in their height that little bit more noticeable when he does.

“Yeah,” Niall breaths out, breaths fanning against Louis’ skin, the smaller boy squirming away from them slightly when he does, but quickly folding back into his hold.

He feels Louis swallow and take in a gulp of air then, feels how his stomach expands to take it in, to make room for it under his fingers as he just listens to the rhythm of Louis’ breathing.

“Do you think that there’s a reason why things happen to some people but not others?” His voice seems faraway, his question tapering off at the end as he looks out across the buzzing city that’s framed by the window above Niall’s sink, staring out of it, intrigued.

Niall slowly lifts his head from the back of Louis’ neck, lowering it onto his shoulder instead so that he can press his cheek up against Louis’, feel him flush against him as he thinks. 

He doesn’t really know how to answer that question as he hasn’t really thought much about it, hasn’t questioned why something may have happened to him but not someone else and vice versa; it’s never crossed his mind, really.

“I don’t really know,” He mumbles, trying to fill the stagnant pause that’s settled between them as Louis waits silently for his answer and he tries to formulate it.  “I guess it’s just because of the difference in circumstances and stuff that people are in.  The fact that you can’t burn yourself if there’s no fire to play with, that sort of thing?  I guess that’s why it doesn’t happen to everyone.”

He doesn’t even think he’s made sense but Louis nods along with him, his lips set into a line across the lower half of his face as he just watches the world pass by outside of the window as they fall silent again, Louis leaning back into his embrace with Niall far to content to think about the fact that Louis may have been asking his question for more reasons than the fact he’s curious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	127. Chapter 127

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who missed me?;)
> 
> Anyway, I'm back and I hope you've all had a good week or so, it's been very strange not having you guys to talk to and chapters to write!
> 
> You're going to want to scream, just so you know. Let me know if you do;)

Louis slips out of his flat later that night, despite the fact Niall more or less begs him to stay, trapping him in the embrace of his arms, careful to not tug and hold too tightly, wanting Louis to be comfortable, remembering how he’d reacted when the hold had been too tight before: he can’t stomach seeing that again.

“I’ve got to go,” Louis had said as he’d pulled his hole-ridden shoes back onto his feet, tucking the laces inside as his Manchester United socks got trapped inside of the shoes, concealing them from Niall’s eyes.

“No you don’t,” Niall had whined, flipping himself onto his back on the sofa to watch Louis scuttle across the living room to retrieve his shoes, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he’d stretched out, ready to follow Louis and grapple onto his waist, to never let him leave.

Louis just shakes his head at him, finishing up sorting his shoes before he lifts himself back up to normal height, wiggling his fingers as if to wake them up, the joints cracking and clicking with each movement.

“I’ve got work tomorrow,” Louis had reasoned, reaching his hands into his pockets before coming back out with his phone, watching the dizzying brightness of the screen sleepily.  “Plus it’s nearly 11 and I need to be up around 7 tomorrow.”

Niall had shook his head, refusing to acknowledge that as a legitimate answer and instead pushing himself up off of the sofa to make his way across to Louis, movements still slow with sleep, the pattern of creases from Louis’ shirt pressed into the skin of his arm where they’d been laid across one another, tangled.

“Stay here then,” He’d said, reaching his hand out behind Louis to push the door and hold it closed, his face mere inches from Louis’ own.  “It’s too late for you to leave tonight,”

Louis’ eyes had flashed with something that Niall - in his sleepy state - had not been able to process, to actually name and label as he’d seen it and he still can’t now, thinking back on it. 

Thinking back to how Louis’ eyes had widened before flickering back to their normal size, how the pupils had dilated and made his brilliant blue eyes turn dark and... scared, dare Niall use the word.

“I’ll be fine,” Louis had whispered, fingers curling down by his side, scraping ever so lightly across the door before he’d clenched them. 

He’d ducked his head down to rest it on Niall’s shoulder, his hair a matted mess on top of his head, definite lines to the strands from where Niall had been stroking his fingers through it not much earlier as the TV had played out in front of them, lighting up the room in prophetic colours.

“Stay here,” Niall’d whispered back, twisting his hands into the hem of Louis’ shirt, ready to pull him back into himself if he tried to move, if he tried to leave and enter the thick of the darkness outside.  “You’ve got a work shirt here anyway, you don’t need to go home.”

Louis had laughed into his shoulder, leant in closer, his breath playing out in swirling wisps across his sleep-warmed skin, making Niall shiver involuntarily.  “I’ll be fine; it’s not that far to my place anyway.”

Niall’d shaken his head, showed his distaste at the idea, at letting Louis wander the dark streets of London late at night on his own.  “I’ll come with you,”

“Then you’d be walking home on your own,” Louis had teased, pulling slightly out of Niall’s arms and looking him in the eye with an amused smile.  “Honestly, I’ve done it before, I’ll be okay.  Nothing will come and eat me up in the middle of the night; this isn’t a werewolf-ridden city, Ni,”

He’d shook his head again, clenched his fingers tighter in Louis’ shirt, trying to show just what he thought of Louis’ idea, what he thought when his words couldn’t twist to fit them properly.

Louis seemed to understand him somehow, understand the dip of his eyebrows, the constant chewing of his lower lip, his hesitation at letting him go; as if he already knew the horrors that Niall had thought up in his head.

“What if I called you all the way home, then?”  Louis had said, dipping his hand into his pocket again to play with his phone, making the screen light up with Niall’s name, the blonde boy smiling at the little heart by his name.  “To show you that I’m safe and that I’ve not been eaten by Jacob or bitten by Edward?”

Niall had pushed him from his arms then, laughing in the darkness of the room, Louis’ amused face lit up by the screen of his phone as he’d leant into the door of the flat, ready to leave.  “Can I go now, then?”

Louis had known he’d won the moment Niall’d forced the huff of air out of his lungs, when he’d let that final sigh pass between his lips and pulled Louis into his arms again, wrapped them tight around his waist and just held him close, breathing him in.

“Promise me you’ll not ring off or anything?” Louis had shook his head against his shoulder, his fingers twisting into the bottom of Niall’s shirt.

“Course not,”

Niall’d pulled them apart slowly, letting himself see the light of Louis’ eyes before he’d ducked his head down to Louis’, let their lips pressed seamlessly together as he’d squeezed at the smaller boy’s waist.

Louis had let him in easily, sighing into the embrace and teasing Niall’s skin with the heat of his fingertips as they’d crawled up his back to his neck, playing with the messy blonde strands at the nape of his neck.

They’d fallen against the grain of the door soon enough, neither boy able to hold themselves upright as their lips had pressed and their tongues had started to meld in the middle, light tender touches that were timid yet passionate as they’d twisted into one another.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” Niall had breathed out against Louis’ lips, his voice breathy and broken with the taste of Louis on his lips, his tongue, his mind whirring with _Louis Louis Louis_.

“I’ll be safe,” Louis had whispered, his breath hot against Niall’s lips, drying them immediately and sending an instantaneous shudder down his spine as he’d twisted his fingers into Louis’ shirt again, just pulling him close.  “Lightening never strikes the same place twice,”

The words had been whispered, whispered so lightly that only the tail end of the words had hit Niall’s ears, the full words just brushing across his face in breathy huffs as Louis had spoken, slipping himself out of Niall’s apartment and he wants to scream.

He wants to full on fucking _scream_ , because apparently, lightening does strike the same place twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	128. Answer me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just here to make you want to scream and cry, sorry
> 
> Title credit goes to Sela_1D <3

He can barely breathe as he watches out of the window, sees Louis’ body disappear into the darkness, phone in his hand, just waiting for Louis to press call and connect them together once again.

“Hey, Ni,” Louis says, the line making his voice gravelly beyond belief as Niall sucks in a breath, surprised he hadn’t fainted with the lack of oxygen he let into his body before he heard Louis’ voice again.

“Hey,” He whispers back, twisting himself up against the pain of the window, feeling the cool against his skin as he leans against it, the chill of it against his sleep-warm flesh.  “You okay?”

Louis laughs down the line but it does nothing to stop the worrisome twist that’s formed in the pit of Niall’s stomach when Louis finally disappears into the night, the streetlights no longer lighting him up for Niall’s eyes and instead shrouding him in shadows that swirl up around him, concealing him from view.

“I’m still human, yeah.  Yet to be eaten by a werewolf or bitten by a vampire,” His voice sounds light and cheerful but Niall can’t concentrate on that, just keeps his eyes staring straight after where Louis just disappeared, chewing his lip, pulling it to shreds as he presses his forehead to the glass.

He can’t bring himself to laugh, forces out a fake huff of breath that he’s almost certain sounded like he was coughing up a lung, but Louis doesn’t pick him up on it, just keeps breathing down the crackly line; and that’s all Niall wants.

Louis’ constant breathing keeps him from leaping out of his flat and following the smaller boy down the road, despite the fact he _needs_ to, something deep inside of him telling him to go, to follow after him.

“You still there, Lou?” Niall asks when the silence is too much for him to handle and his hand is wrapped around his phone so tightly he’s surprised the plastic hasn’t snapped and cracked in his palm yet.

“Course I am,” Louis says, the brisk wind blowing down the line with his voice, the twist and moan of the chill sending a shiver down Niall’s spine like it more than likely did to Louis’.  “It’s a bit chilly,”

“Should have stayed here,” Niall whispers, curling his fingers around the latch on the window to try and keep himself entertained as he watches the path that Louis took not much earlier, just watching it as he listens for the rhythmic exhale and inhale of the brunette boy, ears zeroed in on it.

“I needed to get home, Ni,” Louis says, his voice soft as it enters Niall’s ears and he can’t help but just nod his head in agreement, knowing that Louis’ right even when he really doesn’t want him to be.

“I know you did,” He sighs, dragging his fingertips across the glass pane of the window, breathing a hot breath across it to steam it up so that he can draw pictures onto the cool surface.  “Anyway, let’s forget about it now, how far away from yours are you?”

The wind still travels down the line as Niall speaks and it interrupts his hearing of Louis on the line, his heart beat speeding up when he can’t hear Louis anymore.

“Lou?”  His stomach twists uncomfortably, but he refuses to let the wind worry him and make him panic, just waits for Louis’ response; he’s probably just trying to figure out where he is, Niall reasons when the line stays quiet for a little bit too long, in his opinion. 

“Louis?”  He can barely hear anything over the violent thrum of his heart in his chest, the bang and the boom of it in his rib cage when Louis doesn’t respond, his stomach clenching tightly at the lack of noise that’s coming down the line at all, as if it’s been disconnected.  “Louis, where are you?”

He pushes himself up and away from the window, sparing one last glance at it, his eyes worried and frantic as they survey the area below it, the route that Louis took, desperate to just see him and know it was a joke or something.

“Louis?” He’s still shouting down his phone, worried as he runs out of his apartment, leaving the door open in his rush to get down the stairs, phone still attached to his ear, zeroing in on any and all sounds that make their way down the line.

“Lou, please answer me,” He’s more or less begging as he runs down the stairs from his apartment, his footsteps heavy as they thunder down the steps, no care in the world for the neighbours that he once worried for, just Louis on his mind as he slams doors and clatters down flights of stairs.

The world seems to be against him as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, the glass doors at the bottom of the building getting jammed as he tries to fiercely pull them open, to let himself out and find Louis, even though he has no idea what he’s looking for.

He pulls his phone from his ear, checks that he’s still connected with Louis and when he sees that he is he can barely contain himself, just runs out into the thickness of the night, never looking back when he knows that Louis isn’t there.

The rain falls like silver bullets on his skin as he runs through the darkness, his feet falling into puddles, drenching his jogging bottom and soaking his shoes as he runs, nowhere to go but along the path he knows Louis took.

“Louis?” He hears a slight stagger of a breath down the line that has his pulse racing manically under his skin, forcing his veins to pop out of his flesh.  “Louis, fuck, where are you?”

He doesn’t hear a verbal response to his question, just feels the rattle of breathing down the line, the static of the wind blowing into his earpiece as he continues to run, his mind filled with useless images and ideas that he can’t begin to process.

“Please, where are you?” He knows he’s crying when he tastes salt water dribbling down his face and into the cracks of his lips, dipping into the crevices that Louis’ lips had once been pressed into, as if washing them of the only thing he wants.

“Lou?” He forces gulps of air into his lungs as he runs, his muscles aching and his mind racing, nowhere to go but onwards, no directions to follow, no idea where he is anymore or what to look for.  “Louis, please?”

There are background noises in his ear that make him freeze on the spot, turning quickly around in a circle, eyes hunting manically around himself, trying to find Louis, to see him, he knows he’s hear; can hear him in one ear and through his phone in the other.

“Louis?”

A harrowing breath is torn from his chest as his eyes fall on the small bundle of clothing at the end of an alleyway; the fabric drenched by the freefalling rain as it sits sadly, falling in on itself in a mess of holey clothing.

He barely registers the fact he’s moving until he’s got shivering limbs in his arms, shaking breaths dancing across the bare skin of his collarbones and neck, doesn’t know what he’s doing until he brushes through brunette strands, whispering words he never wants to have to say again, seeing things he doesn’t ever want to experience again; because it breaks his heart when Louis shrinks into his arms when he says them, when he sees him like that.

It breaks his heart, shattering it along with the remnants of Louis’ soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you want:)


	129. Bring me out of the darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated not posting this for another day just to see how worked up I could make you all, but I'm not that nasty;)
> 
> Also, if any of you have any chapter title ideas, please let me know by leaving your suggestions on that specific chapter in a comment:)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to Sela_1D, love you<3

The darkness shrouds its way around him, drinking him in and devouring him in its eerie shadows, clouding his vision and his mind in a thickness that has him blinking around rapidly, deciphering the area around him nervously.

He can hear Niall in his ear, his voice soft and comforting in a way that Louis hasn’t before experienced, as if pulling him out of the inky blackness that’s twisting around his body and swirling him in a bright happiness.

The thickness of Niall’s accent seems to increase with each step Louis takes, Niall’s words becoming slightly more relaxed yet concerned at the same time as he heads through the darkness, slashing it with the dim, muted light from his phone screen as he presses it to his ear, clinging to each of the blonde’s words.

He can’t bring himself to question himself as he walks, doesn’t understand why he’d felt his stomach flip when Niall had let him leave, let him do as he wished when Louis could see the unease, the nervousness on his face, rolling off of the blonde in thick waves.

Cars hoot out in the distance, occasionally blasting their light at his back as they pass, lighting up his path and slicing into the night that’s he’s walking through, showing him where to go.

He’s travelled this route so many times before, knows the ins and outs of the path, but the night sky seems to block all of his memories, the thoughts he held before he embarked on his journey, as if wiping them from his mind.

He knows that he shouldn’t go down the alleyways, that that will only lead to more potential dangers as he wanders the late night streets of London, knows the stories that they tell, what goes on down them, heard them enough times from his mother and knows from experience what alleyways can entail.

He gulps at the mere thought, of the way the darkness hides everything out of his immediate view, blocks all of the things that don’t want to be seen and are instead hiding in the shadows, ready to pounce at any given moment.

Niall’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, however, brings him back to reality and the present, makes him blink his eyes rapidly and continue walking on the lit streets that splay out in front of him, instead of risking the alleys and passageways.

He barely registers the fact he’s talking really, just making sure to put one foot in front of the other, to not dawdle and just go and get home, especially when he hears the loud cackles of drunken people not too many streets away from the one he’s on.

He composes himself however, keeps walking, head held high as he surveys the area, his heartbeat rapid and thumping in his chest, knocking him off kilter as he walks whilst his blood pulses around his body in heavy streams, the force of it ringing dully in his ears.

The rain dribbles half-heartedly from the sky as he continues to trek across the London streets, passing street signs that he should know but can’t quite place, until he walks past a small road that leads down the back of his old workplace, the outside security light bright and ever present in the darkness, pulling him in like a moth to a burning candle.

He sees the stretch of his shadow in front of him as he passes under it, feels the slight change in heat as he walks by, phone trapped in his hand as Niall talks to him, his breathing soft and almost sleepy as he continues to whisper in Louis’ ear.

It makes him smile, just the sound of Niall’s voice in his ear, the metallic shrillness the phone gives it hiding the rising pitch and tone changes of his voice as he speaks, can almost imagine Niall being curled up in his bed on the brink of sleep, the duvet pooled under his neck as he stretches out underneath it, trying to keep himself awake before he gets home and hears that he’s gotten there safely.

He lifts his hand to his lips as he thinks about it, thinks about Niall and everything that they’re yet to do, yet to tell each other, but he doesn’t care.

Niall kissed him.

That’s all that matters to him in that moment as he twists himself down the alleyway, coming out on the end of the street, the sign high above him, the bulbs still not fixed and flickering above him as he walks away from it, continues on his way back home.

The paving stones as he walk seem to want to trip him up, the uneven edges and ledges making him catch his breath many a time and try to steady himself as he walks across them, bright lights of cafes advertising their services glaring at him as he walks, his shoes wet from the puddles that have collected on the ground.

He pushes his hair from his face as he continues to head home, joking lightly with Niall about werewolves and vampires, like they’re the things he should fear in the darkness of the night.

Before he even realises that it’s not Niall’s voice in his ear, but harsh breathing and gruffs of air coming from behind him he’s pressed up against the wall, his phone caught down the ratty sleeve of his hoodie and his forehead bashed against the roughness of bricks.

The tiny squeaks of pain as his hands are grated across the uneven surface of the bricks make his stomach clench as he’s pushed into the wall, his body shaking both in fear and due to the cold night air as fingernails scratch and claw at his skin, leaving flaming hot streaks in their wake across his flesh.

A gruff voice growls into his ear as he’s dragged across the wall, skin peeling as he’s rubbed across it, skin red and raw with it.  “You never learn,”

His heart sinks at the sound of the voice, trying to twist in the man’s hold, to see the face of the man that’s ripped his whole world apart, to see the face that’s haunted his dreams in flashes of remembered shadows and violent actions.

He twists and turns in the man’s hold, trying to get away, begging for him to let him go, to leave him alone and just let him get home, but his begs fall on dead ears.

His protests and begs and pleas die in his throat the moment he looks over his shoulder, sees the man that’s got their hands wrapped around his shoulders, pressing him roughly against the bricks of the building in front of him, one down the back of his joggers and seething breaths down his throat.

“A-Alex?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	130. I'm safe in your arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are times when I despise technology, mainly when it deletes my chapters and I have to re-write them.
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to Sela_1D :)

Louis’ bones rattle under his flesh, his skin wet from the rain and chilled by the wind as Niall pull him into his side, wrapping himself around the smaller boy, trying to protect him from the rain and warm him up as the rain continues to beat down from above.

Louis’ bones protrude from his skin as Niall pulls him in close, feels how his skin is like paper under his fingers and so easily broken that it makes him want to scream; Louis had been okay when he’d left his flat, he’d looked _happy_ and he’d been _healthy_.

He chokes back the sob that wants to crawl up his throat, instead pulling Louis closer to his side, whispering comforting words into his ear as he runs his palms over Louis’ skin quickly, trying to warm him up with the friction of the action.

It’s only then that he registers that Louis’ clothes are pooled at the end of the alleyway and that his skin is bared to the harshness of the weather around them, taking the brunt of the chill and the force of the icy rain.

He quickly shucks off his t-shirt, the cotton wet and sticking to his skin as he tugs it off, but it’s the best he can do, twisting it across Louis’ torso, trying to cover his dignity without Louis noticing too much, needs him to feel safe right now.

Louis’ fingernails dig into his skin as he pulls him back into his side, twisting himself on the wet tarmac floor so that they’re sat up against the corner of the wall and under the slight ledge that’s hanging over the edge of one of the buildings above, the rain coming down on them in infrequent patters instead of in endless sheets.

He can feel the cuts on Louis’ skin, can feel them when Louis presses his hands into Niall’s chest as he wraps himself around him, the slight ditches and cut outs of the marks across his skin as the smaller boy ducks his face into Niall’s chest, huffing out harrowing breaths that have Niall’s heart shattering in his chest.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself when he feels Louis’ tears start to mix with the raindrops on his skin, the drops warm against his cold skin, but it’s a nasty heat, one that makes him want to twist away, to wipe them off of himself, the way they almost burn his flesh as they trickle their way down.

“You’re okay, Lou, you’re okay,” He whispers when Louis’ breaths become more teary and wet, when he can feel the shake of his chest as he pulls them in and pushes them out.

Niall runs his hands down Louis’ back, feeling the chill of it as Louis folds into his side, not pushing away like Niall had been expecting when he’d first seen him, seen the state he was in.

He can’t even begin to think about it, how Louis had been slumped against the wall, his hands lathered in grot off of the floor, rubbish mingling around him as he’d hugged his legs to his chest, breaths harsh and making Niall whimper as he’d heard them be pushed from Louis’ lungs.

The pieces are all there, he knows, knows that one day he’s going to have to connect the dots that have been laid out for him and see the image that they make, see the horror of what _this_ is, but he can’t.

He knows what it is, he can see what it is, sensed it the moment he saw the huddle of sodden clothes at the entrance to the alleyway, found the clues in the nail marks on Louis’ skin, the red marks on his hips that would come out to be bright bruises against his tan flesh, understood Louis’ reluctance to move, how he’s positioned himself so that he’s knelt on the floor instead of sat on it.

It’s all there; he just doesn’t want it to be.

He doesn’t want to have to admit that this happens, that it’s not just one of those horror stories that your parents tell you to try and keep you out of trouble and keep you in at night; but he really wants it to be that.

He wants it to be one of those rumours that spread around the world and sticks around until the creator finally puts their hands up and says it was a joke, a prank, that they meant no harm with it before they fall into their own coffin and don’t have to deal with the aftershocks of it all.

He wants it to be a rumour, needs it to be a prank, for it to be untrue and that Louis’ just pulling his leg and is going to wipe away his tears in favour of laughing out loud, tears forming behind his eyes out of joy instead.

But it doesn’t come.  “You’re okay, Lou,” He whispers, kissing at Louis’ forehead softly as he tries to stop his tears from prickling the backs of his eyes, tries to force them away, to focus on Louis instead of himself because he’s the one that needs protecting right now.

Louis moves the damp shirt around his torso, repositioning it to cover himself properly as he squirms in Niall’s hold, short gasps of breath hissing out from between his teeth as he moves to fit himself against Niall’s side, fingers clenched tightly in Niall’s joggers, the skin white with the force of it.

Niall’s heart sinks when he hears the sounds of discomfort fall from Louis’ lips, knows he needs to do something about it, to stop him from hurting, but he doesn’t know how.  He wasn’t even able to position a shirt on Louis well enough to protect him, there’s no way he can stop Louis’ hurt; but he’ll try.

“I’ll protect you, Lou.” He whispers against Louis’ hair, the strands wet against his lips as he speaks, but he doesn’t care, needs to feel Louis next to him, feel the press of him against himself, needs to know he’s still there.  “God I promise I will, you don’t deserve this, fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3 
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work if you'd like:)


	131. Chapter 131

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revision really sucks, it should never have been invented, honestly.
> 
> Anyway, thanks to everyone that got this story to 9,000 hits - big, massive number that I was never expecting to ever see on this story! I hope you've enjoyed the plot line whiplash of this story, if not I'm sorry but there's more to come! I love you all<3

Harry can’t seem to settle that night, twisting and turning in his bed, limbs getting tangled in the wrinkled sheets as he tosses and turns, unable to sleep.

He knows he needs to sleep, can feel it in his bones when he moves around looking for the best position to lay in, but he just can’t seem to sleep.

His skin feels too hot and then too cold as he rolls around under his duvet, ducking his hand under his pillow before giving up on that and instead throwing said pillow over his face, huffing into it when it doesn’t work and he’s left feeling as uncomfortable as before.

There’s hardly a sound coming from outside of his window either, the outside world seemingly dead as Harry worries his lip, frustrated with himself, knowing that it’s not some nuisance neighbour keeping him awake but his own body.

He fists his hands in his sheets as he twists to lay on his back, laying on his stomach and either side seemingly useless when he continues to feel awake in the darkness, no closer to sleep than he was when he fell under the covers hours earlier.

The clock on the bedside table frustrates him as it glares across at him, its numbers bright and bold in the darkness of the night, the bright numbers jumping to sit at 12:07, frustrating him further, knowing he has to be at work first thing in the morning.

“Babe, stop wiggling,” Zayn’s voice is slow and lazy with sleep as he hooks his arm across Harry’s waist, fingertips drawing lazy patterns into his hip as he breaths in and out steadily, as if on the edge of consciousness, not quite awake, not quite dead to the world.

Harry stills at the sound of Zayn’s voice, huffing out a breath at himself as he tries to focus on the gentle thrum of Zayn’s pulse in his wrist where it’s pressed up against his flesh, uses it as a way to still his mind, to trick it into winding down and letting him go to sleep.

It doesn’t work, however, just riles Harry up more for some bizarre reason before he pushes the covers off of his body, sitting up against the headboard of the bed to run his fingers through his hair, dragging his nails purposely harsh over his scalp, whining at the feel of it.

His body feels as if it’s on fire, as if he needs to escape it somehow and it’s strange, is the thing.  He feels wide awake yet so drained that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.  He slumps against the headboard tired yet he can lay in his bed for hours and feel wide awake, he doesn’t understand himself, he truly doesn’t.

The point of his tooth does nothing to calm him, allow him to gather his thoughts as he bites at his lip, eyebrows furrowed, annoyed at himself.

“You okay?” Zayn’s eyes are wide open now, the brown gentle and slightly sleepy with a hint of living in them as he looks up at Harry from where his head is smushed into the pillow still, his skin patterned by the creases left by the bed sheets.

Harry nods, exhaling loudly as he tips his head down to his boyfriend, his heart fluttering in his chest at the word, about how he can use it again, excited about it regardless of the fact he and Zayn never truly left each other, that there was always something between them holding them together.

“I can’t sleep,” Harry whispers, hoping not to fully pull Zayn out of his slumber at the words, hoping he’ll just fall back to sleep like normal and won’t stay up too since he knows that Zayn’s got an important meeting in the morning which he really needs to be concentrating at, not falling asleep during. 

“It’s fine,” Harry assures when Zayn starts to shuffle underneath the covers, twisting himself around Harry to pull himself up against the headboard also, watching Harry regardless of the curly haired boy’s protests. 

“Go back to sleep, Zee,”  Harry whispers, reaching over to brush his hand over Zayn’s jaw, running his fingers up the side of his face to lower his eyelids down, tempt him into sleeping again.

The dark haired boy shakes his head, however, pulling the duvet up around himself and Harry so that it covers the pair of them, twisting their feet together, entwining one of his hands with Harry’s; he smiles at the contact.

Zayn knows not to push him for answers to questions he hasn’t asked, instead sitting patiently, running his thumb up and down Harry’s hand softly, teasing it over the joints, the webs of his fingers as he keeps his eyes forwards, knowing Harry’s understood the question he’s asking with his eyes.

“I just can’t sleep,” Harry whispers, squeezing at Zayn’s hand softly, quiet smile on his lips.  “I don’t know why, I just can’t.”  He shuffles himself around under the duvet, trying to get comfy but he still can’t manage it, sighing out in annoyance, not holding back now he knows Zayn’s awake.

Zayn makes a humming noise in the back of his throat as though he’s thinking about it, about why Harry can’t sleep and it makes something tight curl into the pit of Harry’s belly, knowing that Zayn cares.

 Zayn curls his head into the crook of Harry’s neck, breaths soft and even and gentle against the heated flesh of Harry’s neck.  “Maybe you’re stressed?”  Zayn offers, lips pressing against the skin of Harry’s neck when he speaks, Harry keening into the touch.

The curly haired boy tips his head to the side, unsure why he’d be stressed or what he’d be stressed about really; everything’s fine between him and Zayn now, work’s still cool and there’s not really a lot more going on in his life, really to be honest. 

He lets Zayn know this and again comes the humming, the vibrations of it travelling over Harry’s throat again, dancing up and over the pale skin and making his fingers twitch slightly.

“Maybe you’re not stressed then?”  Zayn says, tipping his head up to look at Harry’s face, stroking his fingers across it loving.  “You could have just messed up your body clock by falling asleep on me earlier?”

Harry shrugs; feeling tired but apparently not tired enough to sleep sucks.  “But I feel tired,” He whines.  “I want to go to sleep, I just can’t.”

Zayn presses a soft kiss to his jaw and Harry feels the frustration rush out of him, the older boy’s touch calming him instantly.  “Well then maybe it’s too hot or too cold for you too sleep, then?”  He pulls the duvet across himself, leaving Harry bare to the world as he pushes him down to lay on the bed.  “Now do you feel like you want to sleep?”

“I feel like you’ve just ripped the covers off of me and left me starkers,” Harry mumbles, reaching his hand out to grab at the edge of the duvet, trying to keep himself warm, the bed feeling foreign when he’s not got covers wrapped around him.

“Nah, babe,” Zayn whines, trying to keep the duvet out of Harry’s grasp.  “I like it like this, s’good view,” 

Harry sticks his tongue out at his boyfriend before smirking, pressing himself up against him under the duvet and pressing a kiss to his stubbled jaw.  “Who needs a view,” He whispers, feeling the shiver go down Zayn’s spine at the words, the older boy’s lips letting slip a small sound that makes Harry smirk; he’s missed this.

He feels as close to sleep as he’s ever going to get as he’s pressed up against the tan boy, their skins melding between them, the brilliant contrast between light and dark that can’t quite be made out in the darkness of the night.

Zayn relaxes next to him, ducking his head down so that they’re laid against one another, sharing one pillow between them as they watch each other, Zayn’s eyelids drooping the longer he lays there and Harry feels his heart expand as he watches him; the graceful flutter of his eyelashes, the way he fights the sleep that’s trying to take over his body.

He watches as Zayn falls into the hands of unconsciousness, feels him go soft and sleepy in his arms as he breaths out softly over Harry’s face and he wants to follow him, wants to sleep pressed up against his boyfriend as they dream dreams of their futures, of what’s in store for them, but it makes something twist and clench and grind in his stomach.

It feels like bile rising up his throat before he pulls his eyes open, forces himself awake and pushes himself out of the bed, tiptoeing out of the bedroom to the bathroom, splashing water on his face to try and allow him to gather his thoughts, to sort himself out, but he can’t, feels sick to his stomach and even more so now that he’s this close to the toilet.

He hears Zayn moving around in the bedroom as he wretches into the bowl, stomach convulsing sadly when there’s nothing left to give, nothing left to be taken, feels Zayn’s gentle hands in his hair, pulling the overgrown strands off of his face and stroking his fingers through them as he whispers sweet nothing’s into his ear, calming him.

He feels the tears stroll down his cheeks but he doesn’t feel them fall off of his jaw, Zayn catching them with his thumb quickly as he strokes down Harry’s back once he’s finished, once there’s absolutely nothing more to give, but when there’s no more to give, there’ll always be more to take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	132. Silently looking after you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think You & I killed me, wow.
> 
> Also, here's that early update for Sela_1D - hope this is a decent time for you instead of stupid o'clock in the morning:)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to Sela_1D because she is just amazing and lovely and so nice to me when I update stupidly late (which is more or less all the time!) Love you<3

He feels strange for the rest of the night, his stomach feeling funny as he’s slumped against the side of the bath, begging Zayn to go back to bed as he leans back against the cool surface of the bath, basking in the chill that settles along his skin, extinguishing some of the heat that’s radiating from it.

Zayn, of course, refuses to move, twisting Harry around himself instead so he can rub soothing circles into Harry’s belly, whispering sleepy nothings into the curly haired boy’s ear, trying to help him feel better as the sleep seeps back into his body but he fights it off and Harry just wants to cry at the fact he’s still got him in his life.

He doesn’t feel particularly sick now, admittedly, - Zayn doing his job better than anyone else could have, well, maybe not his mother, but that’s different he decides - just feels a bit empty, as if something other than the contents of his stomach are missing from him.

The water pipes whir to life under their legs where they’re spread out across the bathroom floor, one of their neighbours obviously having flushed the loo or something and the old building trying to supply them with the water they need, he really wishes it hadn’t.

It makes Harry feel a little bit queasy, the way the tiles seem to rattle with the pipes, how they shake under him, doing nothing to help the funny feelings inside of his stomach.

He hoists himself out of Zayn’s grasp slowly, his muscles not working with him and creaking as he moves to press his chin into the seat of the toilet, breathing deeply as he prepares himself to be sick, closing his eyes at the feel of the cool porcelain under his jaw.

“You okay?” Zayn asks, voice worried as he fidgets on the floor, moving across it so he can still have a hand on Harry’s neck, stroking at the short hairs at the nape of his neck that feel sticky with sweat to Harry, he has no idea why Zayn’d want to do it, but he does and Harry honestly cannot thank him enough, the touch grounding him.

Harry nods, not knowing whether he is or not really, he’s just not feeling quite right, to be honest.  “M’okay,” He whispers, voice harsh as it travels up against his sore throat, making him halt his words sooner than he should, the pain a little too raw to speak.

Zayn doesn’t respond to that, knows that Harry doesn’t feel the way he says he does as he reaches for a glass off of the side of the sink, filling it with cool water and handing it down to the younger boy.  “Drink this; it’ll make you feel better,”

Harry takes a quick sip without question, needing to feel better as he swallows, the liquid cool but painful as it catches on the raw parts of his throat on the way down; he doesn’t quite agree with Zayn that it’ll help him, to be honest.

Zayn presses a cool flannel to his neck when Harry doesn’t move, keeps his head perched on the seat over the toilet bowl, as if he can’t think of where else to put it.

“Sorry,” Zayn whispers, voice genuinely sorry and apologetic when Harry hisses and jumps at the chill of it, the water from it running down his back, over the knobs of his spine before Zayn collects them up with his thumb, wipes them away with a smile.

His knees start to ache the longer he kneels on them, the tiles pinching at his skin as he hangs his head over the toilet, feeling less and less like he’s going to throw up the longer he does.  He can’t thank heaven enough.

He tips his head back into Zayn’s chest as he pushes himself away from the toilet, his skin feeling both hot and cold as he leans into Zayn’s body, feels his heart thrum-thrumming in his chest, smiling at the constant of it.

They don’t speak, just fall back against the bath again, their breaths entangling in the still of the night as Zayn continues to stroke through Harry’s hair, toying with the strands and letting the silence sit peacefully between them.

Harry’s head starts to droop against Zayn’s chest the longer they sit, Zayn’s hands a comforting weight in his hair as he brushes through the strands, carefully unknotting pieces with his fingers before he starts to get up, his hands around Harry’s waist as he guides him back into the bedroom, flicking off the light as they go and bathing them in darkness as they fall into bed.

“Are you sure you feel okay?” Zayn asks as he pulls the cover up to Harry’s chin, tucking him in like his mother would do, before climbing into his side of the bed, entwining their fingers together easily underneath the duvet.

“Don’t really know how I feel,” Harry admits, turning so that his head is laid across Zayn’s arm instead of on the pillow, the heat comforting against his skin.  “I feel a bit rubbish, but I don’t feel necessarily sick now,”

Zayn nods, his eyes concerned as he brushes the strands of Harry’s hair back off of his face and tucks them behind his ear as he turns on his side to face Harry also, running his feet up his legs.  “I’m glad, don’t like sick Harry,”

“I don’t like him either,” Harry chuckles, perching his lips up into a tired smile that he’s sure looks a bit broken on his face, Zayn’s eyes looking a bit dead in their sockets as he watches him, as if not believing it.  “Thanks for looking after me,”

Zayn shakes his head at Harry, running his hand over Harry’s side before settling it on his waist, pulling him close.  “Didn’t really look after you,” He whispers, flicking his eyes across to the clock and how it’s almost two in the morning now, can’t find it in himself to care however, just watching his boyfriend carefully.  “Just brushed your hair out of your face, nothing much,”

Harry yawns for what feels like the first time in his life, his eyes becoming heavy in their sockets before they’re closing and he’s just clinging to the final words that have formulated in his mind, needing to get them out before sleep is too much. 

“So much,” Harry corrects, nuzzling his head into the crook of Zayn’s elbow, nosing at the skin before he can barely register the kiss that Zayn’s dropping onto his forehead.  “Love you, Zee,”

“Love you so much too, Hazza-Bear,” Harry falls asleep with a smile on his lips at the nickname.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personally I think I write better at stupid o'clock at night, but who knows? Let me know, maybe? 
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	133. Not now, not ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was stood out in the cold this morning from half 7 until quarter past ten this morning to try and get a 5SOS cassette for Record Store Day. 
> 
> It was a bit rubbish because you've got to use a password to get one and the owner of the store either didn't know or ignored that rule and so people at the front of the queue just took them because they were free before people that actually wanted them could:( They were free, now check eBay or something and see what sort of return those people are getting on them. I'm really upset by this, if you hadn't already realised from my rant.
> 
> I hope if any of you lot went searching for one you got one, you all deserve one<3
> 
> Anyway, back to this monster of a story, this is probably the longest thing I've posted for like two months or something, meh, hope it's okay?
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to Sela_1D, even if it wasn't intended as a chapter title, I think it should be one:) I'm pretty sure it was one though!

He doesn’t know what to do with himself as Niall lays him on his bed, lifting the sheets up so that he can slide under them before tucking him in and wandering through the flat once he’s looked him over, voice strained as he’d asked him if he was okay before he’d head off.

The air is warm around him, almost scorching his skin really as he’s tucked up under the sheets, bones numb and mind empty as he watches the door with careful eyes, fingers curled tightly around the duvet.

He lays stock still the entire time Niall’s gone, hearing the sound of water falling and splashing far off in the flat before Niall’s back with a towel in his hands, his clothes still drenched and his cheeks splattered in red from the cold that they just escaped from.

“You want a shower, Lou?” He asks, tiptoeing into the room, keeping his eyes on him all the way as he walks, a cautious smile on his lips as he reaches into a cabinet on the other side of the room, pulling out a pair of sweats and the ‘H’ jumper.

Louis’ eyes zone in on the jumper, piercing into the fabric as his hands stay grasping tightly at the duvet, toes tingling in anticipation, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He must look horrified, for Niall backs off slowly, keeping eye contact as he moves, smile falling slightly as he does so, dropping the pile of clothes on the chair by the end of the bed along with the towel.

“It’s running if you want it,” Niall says, voice calm and soft and Louis just wants to cry, wants to drown himself in his own tears when Niall offers him an unsure smile and a little wave as he heads back towards the door.  “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Louis doesn’t protest, can’t find it in himself to do it when the force of his blood is pummelling in his ears, rattling his skull and leaving him breathless.

Niall’s away and out of the door before he can try to force the words out, his body shaking as he’s left alone in the room, Niall having pulled the door shut behind him, no doubt to give him privacy, he thinks.

He lets out a wet sob at the thought of that, of Niall being so kind and lovely and just, _yeah_.  He wants to thump himself, he really does.

He sucks in a breath through his nose that makes him purse his lips to contain the tears that want to trickle down his cheeks, but he’s cried enough tears, hasn’t got anymore to give.

The breathing technique seems to work, keeps him from breaking out in uncontrollable sobs, until he shifts under the duvet; that’s a whole different ball game.

His skin burns red hot where it rubs across the sheets as he moves, aches and stings so bad that it brings tears to his eyes with even the most subtle of movements. 

He wants to wiggle away, to change how he’s laid, but he can’t, his body instantly protesting when he attempts to shift on the bed, bones grinding and his skin chaffing redder than it already is.

He can feel the marks on his skin, doesn’t need to lift the duvet to see them, could probably give accurate coordinates to each and every one of them if he was asked to, but he can’t, not when he’s seeing white in his vision, head lolling to the side.

It hurts so much that he wants to scream, wants to scream for Niall to come, to try and help him even though he pretty much rejected that just a few minutes ago. 

He wants to see Niall, wants to feel the press of his skin against his own, how they contrast in tone and in temperature.  He wants Niall.

He can barely hold his own head up with the force of the pain that’s whirring its way around his body, the constant pulsing of it in his veins making him want to cry, and he does.

One salty tear meanders down his face before he can compose himself as he pushes himself up with his hands, uses them to push himself up into something of a sitting position, muscles aching and bones grinding as he moves.

Pain rattles through his body with every movement, his skin seemingly pulled taut across his skeleton whenever he moves, making it impossible to do anything without the feeling of tearing and ripping himself to shreds.

He rests his head against the headboard for a while, trying to compose himself as he sucks in even breaths, tries to stop the _huff huff huff_ of his breath, sounding as though he’s just run a marathon and not just lifted himself up in bed.

Around him the flat is near silent, as though Niall’s left and there’s only him left but he knows better than that when he sees the light trickle into the room, Niall’s shadow falling across the doorway, the sound of the shower shutting off stilling the apartment completely before Niall falls down on the sofa.

Niall looks peaceful, as though he’s fallen asleep the longer Louis watches, cocking his head to the side, one of the only actions he can complete without feeling as if he’s torn himself into teeny tiny pieces, he notes with a grimace.

He hoists himself up a little bit more in bed, just chewing his lip instead of letting the pain get to him, clenching his eyes securely closed to ensure he doesn’t see the sudden shock of white in front of his eyes.

One of his legs is over the side of the bed, the other still sat up on it, perched on the edge before he tries to shuffle it over also, muscles resisting.

When he feels his feet tickle against the fibres of Niall’s carpet he nearly faints, feels emotions overcome him so quickly and in such massive waves that it makes him want to be sick, wrapping his arms across his stomach to try and push away the nausea.

Strands of his hair fall into his eyes the longer he ducks his face to stare at his feet, seeing the bareness of his legs when he lowers them to the ground, notices that he’s not wearing anything other than a soaked jacket.

A belated shiver runs down his spine when he notices it, hears the squelch of the fabric as he moves and he wants to rip it from his body, get rid of it, of the memories it carries with it.

He rips it from his body before he can whimper about the pain the action shoots through his limbs, before he can stop himself and cry about it, but once it’s gone, he feels better.

It feels as though something has been lifted from his shoulders, a great heavy weight and he wants to cry, feels the tears prick at the backs of his eyes as he closes them so tightly that he sees flashes of bright lights and patterns behind his eyelids.

He doesn’t even register the fact that he’s stood up, that he’s walking across the room and picking up the pile of clothes as he goes, pulling on the jumper and tugging the joggers up his legs before he can curse about the tightness in his body, complain about it all.

Niall still looks peaceful as he slips himself out of the room, body groaning as he goes but the shower’s no longer running in the background and he needs to wash the grime from his body, needs to scrub at his skin to get rid of everything.

He’s done it once before, knows what he’s doing, how he’s going to get the feeling of it all off of his body, cleanse himself of it all before it takes over his mind; he can’t go back there.

The memories still stick in his mind, even now; he can still feel what he felt, can smell what he’d smelt, hear what he’d heard, see what he saw, it’s all there; he’s just got it locked up.

He knows he’s stood stock still in the doorway when he hears Niall’s voice, the sleepiness of it, how it cracks slightly in the middle of his name as he says it and Louis doesn’t know what to do with himself, wants to forget but he can’t, not really.

He tips his lips in what he hopes looks like a convincing smile, but he knows he’s not fooled Niall when he looks at him so carefully that he feels like a historic artefact under Niall’s gaze, as if he’s being handled with the upmost care and it makes his stomach flip wildly.

“Hey,” Niall whispers, keeping his eyes on Louis and he tries not to pull his jumper down his wrists, tries to look as casual as possible, but he can’t, knows that there’s nail marks and bruises around his wrists, littering his skin.

“Hey,” He echoes, not moving from where he’s stood as he and Niall continue to watch each other since he doesn’t know what to do now.

“Want me to bandage that up for you?” Niall’s looking at his hand, the sleeve not having moved from where he had pulled it down to but he knows that Niall knows what’s there, can’t hide what he already knows.  He nods his head.

Niall’s movements are slow and cautious, as if he’s dealing with a scared little animal as he moves, keeping eye contact the entire time before he ducks into the kitchen, coming back out immediately with the first aid kit that Louis knows well.

Niall’s fingers are as careful as they were the last time he bandaged him up, the last time he fixed him and it makes something stir in the pit of his stomach, makes something twist inside, something he’s yet to label.

“You okay?” Niall asks, stilling his movement when he notices the look on his face, sees the twist of the emotions on his face, it makes the twist a little bit tighter.

“Yeah,” He breaths, lifting his eyes slowly to meet Niall’s before he ducks them down, cheeks flushing as he flicks his eyes down to Niall’s lips, heart racing and chest tightening.

Once he’s got his hands wrapped up, Niall doesn’t shift, keeps watching him closely from where they’re both perched on the sofa.  “Anything else you want me to fix up?”

He knows that Niall knows, doesn’t even contemplate lying to him, just nods his head and tries to lift the jumper off of his back, Niall’s hands coming up to help when he sees the discomfort it’s putting Louis in before Louis attempts at pushing the joggers down so that they ride low on his hips, exposing the crevices he knows are pressed into his skin, the skin red and raw around them.

He feels the hitch of Niall’s breath before he hears it, the air rushing out and hitting his heated skin instantly as Niall runs a delicate, soothing hand across the damaged skin. 

“Who did this to you?” He whispers, voice like a breath as he rubs cream onto the sore patches, apologising profusely when Louis hisses in protest, whining at the sting of the cream.

He acts like he hasn’t hear the words that Niall whispered, just pushes himself away from the fingers that Niall’s got pressing lightly at his skin before leaning back into them, the burn both soothing and painful on his body.

When one injury is dealt with Niall doesn’t even have to ask him to show him another one, Louis moving carefully to show him the areas of pain before he’s asked, twisting slowly and jerkily to try and limit the pain he receives from each movement.

Niall continues to watch him closely with every new injury he unveils, face twisting with the appearance of each new one that litters Louis’ body. 

Louis can see the sadness in his eyes, hears the hitches in his breath, the cracks in his voice as he speaks and it hurts; the pain of it all may hurt him, but the twisting in the pit of his stomach knocks the air out of him even more, leaves him gasping, heart heavy whenever he looks at the sorrowful depths of Niall’s eyes.

It’s heading into early morning when Niall’s hands are finally removed from his body, when it just the connection between their eyes left over and nothing else but, the cream starting to sink into his skin and the bandages keeping him in one piece.

There are questions in Niall’s eyes, Louis can see them, each one of them spelt out across his face, in his eyes, twisted into the cracked and cratered corners of his lips, in the way he reaches his hand out to press it to his face, stroking over Louis’ cheek carefully.

“Who did this to you, Lou?”

He can’t prepare himself for the brokenness in Niall’s voice, hadn’t been ready to hear it like that, to see the pain in his eyes and the sound of it resonant in his words at the same time, feels the tears well up in his eyes before he can stop them, hide them away with all of the others he refuses to shed.

He’s in Niall’s arms before he knows it, his skin soft against his fingers as he’s pulled in tight to his chest, Niall’s heart hammering out against his own and he wants to tell him, knows he should, that it’s what he’s needed to tell him all along.

Niall’s whimpers in his ears break the excuses that sit on the end of his tongue, rip away the lies he was going to tell, twist and burn the truth also, as he ducks his head down, hides it in Niall’s chest as he shakes his head, muttering a _not now_ that he hopes Niall hears because he wants to tell him, needs to tell him, just not now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Chapter title names ideas would be lovely<3


	134. Soft limits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title ideas anyone? If you have any ideas, please can you leave them in a comment on the chapter they're designed for and I shall pick the best one. I'll credit you if I pick your idea!:)
> 
> Hope you have a good day:)
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to Sela_1D :)

Louis’ skin feels like tissue paper under his fingers as they fall back against the sofa, arms still twisted around one another as the night ticks on, morning beginning to set itself up outside, peak its way through the inky darkness of the night.

He ducks his head in Louis’ hair, the strands damp against his cheek as he just tries to breath, to keep his touch light to prevent any discomfort that he may cause the smaller boy.

And that’s what he is, really, smaller.

His body looks like it’s been buried under the wool of the jumper that’s baggy across his chest, the cuffs hitting the second knuckles of his fingers, too long for him, the neckline of it slipping off one shoulder, exposing the unnatural dip of his collarbones.

His legs look as though there’s not an ounce of meat on them where they’re entwined with Niall’s, the fabric of the joggers baggy on him where they hadn’t been the last time he wore them, his ankles on show and bony beyond belief where they met his feet, the skin littered with a blue tinge from the strength of the cold.

Niall reaches down to hold them, to try and warm them up, holds his hands firm around them even when Louis squirms in his sleep at the sensation, knows not to stop when it’s something he knows Louis needs.

They’re cold to the touch, his skin chilled and mottled blue before Niall tries to heat them up, to provide them with the warmth that they’ve been lacking, before his mind catches on that his socks are missing, that he left the apartment in them, feet emblazoned with Manchester United logos but didn’t return with them.

He knows he should have picked Louis’ clothes up, should have nabbed them back from the street to prevent them becoming something of a trophy for the person that did _this_ , feels like a twat for leaving them sodden on the edge of the alleyway.

He wants to go back, back to where all of this happened, grab Louis’ clothes and find the person that did this, that wrecked the life of the best guy he’s ever known, the boy he loves.

He catches himself before he lets the growl leave his lips, tries to compose himself, to keep his anger and bay and his tears of frustration behind his eyes, because Louis doesn’t need that.

Louis needs to be safe and protected and loved and it hurts because he didn’t do that, he let this happen, he had a part in the wrecking of Louis’ life.

His lips twist up into a crinkled line as he bites at his lip, tries to keep his emotions at bay as he rocks Louis in his arms, tries to comfort him when deep down he knows that it’s impossible.

The signs had all be there back at the street, he knows what he’s let Louis get himself into, what he didn’t try to prevent and he swallows back a scream when he thinks of it all.

The broken look on Louis’ face when he’d rounded the corner, the way his shoulders had slumped as if he’d though he’d come back for another go, another round.

The phrase forces bile up his throat, at the way he’d used it in such a casual context months before and it had meant something light, something teasing and fun, but now, it just leaves a foul taste on his tongue that makes him want to wash his mouth out with soap.

The context had been casual he thinks, back then, but the background meaning had still been the same and he wants to pull Louis so fucking close to himself that nothing will ever be able to get him again, to use him like he’s a piece of worthless shit, because he’s _not_.

He’s kind and smart and funny and caring and beautiful and honest, has a heart of pure gold, worth his weight in the bloody stuff, really.  He’s the younger brother Niall never had, the one he feels brings out another side to him, brings out the best in him. 

He’s all of that and more and his lower lip is fucking wobbling and he can’t do anything about it.

The tears spill out over the rims of his eyes before he can force them back, can stop them from scolding his face on the way down his cheeks, his hands clenched so tightly in Louis’ jumper - his jumper, he smiles, remembers how Louis’ eyes had lit up when he’d seen it – that he’s surprised it hasn’t ripped yet.

Louis’ hair is as soft against his lips as it was his cheek, the strands warm and smooth as he kisses at them, hiccups out breaths against them that he can’t control, heart hammering manically in his chest.

“They won’t get away with this,” Niall promises, breath hot as it fans out over the crown of Louis’ head, fingers clenched _so tight_ in the jumper that he has to peel them away digit by digit, knows he’s going to end up hurting Louis if he carries on and that makes his heart plummet, his stomach fall.

Someone hurt Louis, went out of their way to, to butcher up his soul and leave the broken boy that’s sleeping in Niall’s arms behind, completely oblivious to the life they’ve just torn apart and burnt to a crisp, unsalvageable.

“I’ll kill them,” He says, voice too broken around his words that there’s barely any sound to it, as if he just whispering it to Louis alone, letting him know that he’s there, that he’ll always be there.  “I’ll catch them and I’ll kill them, fuck.”

It gets a bit too much for him then, knowing that this has happened, the whole scenario hitting him like a freight train before he stumbles out of his mind, emotions on overdrive and body unresponsive when Louis nuzzles into his chest, settling him down instantly.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, voice hoarse with the unshed tears, the tracks of previous ones burning into the skin on his face as he squeezes at Louis’ hand, stroking over the bandage he wrapped them up in.  “I’m so sorry, Lou,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Reader<3


	135. It's not real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School tomorrow, don't make me go:(
> 
> If you have any chapter title ideas, please feel free to leave them in the comments on that particular chapter and I will choose the best one and credit you for your idea:)
> 
> Have a good day/night/evening/morning/week/month/year
> 
> Chapter title credit goes to the lovely Sela_1D

A man with wrinkles around his mouth, crows’ feet littering his face, looks down upon him, a frown on his face as he surveys him, scanning over his body.

“This how you found him?” His voice sounds knowing, tendrils of regret tinged into his words as he speaks to his colleague, getting an affirmative response before running a hand through his dark hair quickly, scrunching up his eyebrows.

He shakes his head sadly as he pulls on his latex gloves, lowering them down to rest on Louis’ skin as he crouches, running his fingers over the marks Louis knows are littering his skin, the dark haired man tracing them easily.

Louis feels the pain shoot through him with each stroke of the man’s finger, wants to hiss in pain and wriggle away from his prodding hands, to get him away.

The man’s attention falls from him when he seems satisfied with his quick overlook, keeping his gloves on his hands as he rises up to full height, twisting his head around to look around the area, eyes squinting as the sun starts to pour its way into the sky, chasing away the few lingering stars high above.

“Do we know who he is?”  He asks, turning to face the short, dark haired woman again, directing his questions at her alone when there’s a whole team working around him, milling about the area.

“We believe so, sir,” She pulls out a plastic bag from her jacket pocket, passing it over to the older man carefully.  “We found this nearby; we believe it to be his.  His name is Lewis Tomlinson,”

“Louis,” The man corrects, turning slowly to face him, dropping back down into a crouching position to brush the matted strands of hair off of his face, to stroke at the slight graze across his forehead.  “Louis William Tomlinson.”

The woman cocks her head to the side, a piece of hair falling from her careful bun into her face before she brushes it away quickly, as if it’s a constant thing.

“Do you know him, sir?” She sounds unsure, as if she doesn’t know whether she should ask the question and Louis has no idea why, it’s not like it’s an invasion of privacy or anything, even if he’s sure he doesn’t know him, can’t place his face.

The man seems to take a while before he answers her question, scouring Louis’ face with a careful eye, taking all of him in, his eyes searching his soul and Louis wants to look away, but he can’t, his eyes seemingly glued to the man’s as he hunts down unsaid questions on Louis’ face.

He sighs softly as he nods his head, trying to compose himself before he speaks, turning his head and whispering a gentle _yeah_ , meeting the woman’s eyes before ducking his head back down.

“I’m sorry, sir,” She leaves it at that, smiling a tight, almost regretful smile before she walks away, leaving the pair of them alone, her heels clicking on the pavement as she walks along.  She looks far too well dressed for the alleyway Louis knows he’s in, puzzling him as she walks away, taking to people as she goes.

He wants to ask, wants to get the man to stop staring at him and instead tell him something, wants to ask him what the hell he’s doing and why he’s there.

The man however, does none of that as he lowers himself down, kneeling on the floor in front of Louis as people work around him, sparing a quick glance at the pair of them before continuing on with what they had been doing, as if this is a normal occurrence.

He feels numb with it all, when the man looks at him, no longer touching him, just watching, as if taking all of Louis in before he curls his lips into a straight line, eyes sad as he just watches.

What he’s looking for, Louis will never know as he doesn’t get any answers to his questions; knows he’s asking them, can hear the echoes of them in his head, how they bounce off of the bodies around him, but he doesn’t get any responses.

“You didn’t deserve this, Louis,” The man says, jaw clenched as he pushes himself up off of the floor and away from Louis when a man taps at his shoulder, white suit bunched up around his body and a blue mask over his mouth.

“You really didn’t; I’m so sorry,” He’s got no idea what the guy’s talking about, why his voice is harsh and strained and full of venom as he speaks, but it is and it just confuses him further before he’s being moved.

Louis tries to kick out, to push away from the grip that’s tight around his limbs but he can’t, all of his body stiff and numb as he tries to fight away until they stop and let him go and all he can see is the sky.

Can see the brightness of the early morning sun start to claw its way up the sky, knocking away the inky blackness of night and the shine of the stars, igniting the clouds and setting them on fire in vivid yellows and tangy oranges.

Faces loom over him for a while, interrupting his view of the sky as words of _injuries_ , _pain_ and _attacker_ are thrown out around him, but his mind is quite literally off with the clouds, following their steady trails with his eyes.

He sees the tired creases around the man’s eyes again as he speaks to the man in the white suit, the mask still pulled tight over his mouth as he asks about whether it was _quick_ and Louis just doesn’t know what to do, how to tell the pair of them just to _go away_ and get out of his way, that he’s watching the day go by and that they’re ruining that.

“It wouldn’t have been overly fast, sadly, but he most likely didn’t feel much once the blow came to his ribs, would probably have passed out before he felt them sink into his lungs.”

Louis doesn’t even want to know what they’re going on about, his stomach churning a bit at the thought of ribs and lungs colliding, the idea cool in horror movies but this doesn’t feel like one, it doesn’t feel quite as staged, somehow, feels too real.

The man in the white suit offers the man a tight smile before he braces his hands on Louis’ chest lightly and he would complain, but at least he’s out of his way now, the sun shining bright on his face where it cuts down the alleyway, warming his deathly cool skin.

The sun beams down for quite a while, the heat soaking into his skin as he lays staring up at it, just watching and seeing it above him, not needing to question it, feeling an almost lightness as he looks up at the sky, at what people class as heaven. 

He wonders what it’s like then, heaven, whether it’s all plush clouds and angels like people say it is or whether it’s better, whether it’s worse than they claim it to be.

“We should probably get him over to the lab,” The man whispers, voice soft as he looks at the wrinkled man, cocking his head to the side knowingly, as if he understands the man well, as if he _gets_ him.  Louis wants someone to _get_ him.

“Yeah,” The man says, taking one final look down into Louis’ eyes and he can’t even begin to complain about the shadow it casts over his face when he sees the pure sorrow in the depths of the man’s brown irises, sees the regret and the sadness clear as day, the sight leaving him speechless. 

“Be careful with him, yeah?”

“I always am,” The man promises before he’s pulling blackness over Louis’ eyes, leaving him trapped, his body unresponsive as he’s lifted again and he wants to _scream_ , scream to get them to let him out, but his words are trapped in his throat, never coming out.

He wants to cry out, to feel his tears run down his face in frustration when he can’t move, but they don’t come either, his eyes also broken, not working when he tries to get them to move, to respond, to do _anything_.

But he _can’t_ and he doesn’t know what to do with himself then, until he feels warm arms around his body, fingers curling protectively into his hair and words of comfort slipping seamlessly into his ear as kisses are pressed to his face.

“You’re alright, Lou, it was just a nightmare, you’re okay,”

But he’s not though, is he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	136. Chapter 136

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've got no idea how frustrated I got writing this chapter, you were going to have some more Nouis but I annoyed me because I couldn't write it properly, I hope this is okay though?

Alex’s arm is a comfortable weight where it’s spread across Liam’s waist, his fingers curled in around Liam’s hipbone, subconsciously drawing patterns into the skin there.

Their breaths mingle between them as Liam watches how Alex looks with his eyes shut, sleep taking over his mind and body, leaving him soft and pliant next to him as he strokes down his face, feels the start of short stubbly hairs start to prickle out of his skin.

Alex’s hair is a mess upon his head where it’s been rubbed against the pillows and the sheets as he’s moved in his sleep, but Liam doesn’t think he’s ever seen it look so nice, so natural against Alex’s face instead of styled to fit around it; he likes it.

Liam knows the alarm’s going to go off soon and rip away the softness and ease of Alex’s breaths, make him open his eyes and have him trundle off to work for the day, but the fact that they’ll end up back here at the end of it is enough to stop him from turning off the alarm.

He doesn’t know when he got quite as soppy as this, when he started to look at people and relate them to poems and song lyrics, a particular image stuck in his mind whenever he reads or hears the words again, but he wouldn’t change it.

He wouldn’t change how he just has to hear the word Westlife and smile because he knows that’s one of Alex’s guilty pleasures, how despite all of his indie t-shirts and rock and roll CD’s, he still can’t resist singing along with their Irish lilts.

How if he sees a Spiderman item he wants to turn to the side and argue about how Batman is just so much better than Spiderman, that nothing can beat the stories and the Gotham City hero before they collapse in on one another, Alex normally giving in and calling a truce as he kisses at the bow of Liam’s lips softly.

That he wouldn’t change the tingling in his heart every time he hears _Hey Delilah_ play in the coffee shop, because he knows that Alex is singing the words under his breath as he prepares customers drinks or tapping along to it when he’s taking their orders, doesn’t have to see or hear him to know that he’s there echoing the words.

Wouldn’t want to know what it was like to live without Alex in his life, with his dark hair and blue eyes that hold all of the secrets of the world hidden deep inside of his orbs.

He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have to lean down to kiss someone, instead of tipping his head back and just letting go as Alex shows him just how much he loves him, how much he’s missed him.

Doesn’t want to know how it feels to have someone else’s hand trapped in his own, rubbing over his knuckle and running over the curves of his nails softly, as if star struck.

“You’re worse than the alarm clock,” Alex mutters, lifting one eye lid to drop a teasing glance on Liam, lips turned up into a lazy smile before he drops himself back down into the pillow that’s under his head, huffing out a breath into it.

Liam pouts down at his boyfriend, reaching out a hand to flick at his skin, chuckling when Alex does little more than huff at him.  “I didn’t even do anything,”

The response leaves him coming back for more as he reaches his hand out to poke at Alex’ shoulder, grinning despite himself.  “Are you sure that I’m worse than the alarm clock?” He teases, continuing his tirade on Alex’s sleep-warmed skin.

His boyfriend moves away from him across the bed, pushing sleepily at his hand before quickly shifting his head to the side, nibbling on Liam’s finger before he can pull it away.

Liam squawks at Alex’s response, cheeks flushing when Alex laughs at him, rolling across the bed to press up against Liam’s side, slinging his arms around Liam’s shoulder as he presses a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“You’re much worse than the alarm clock,” He chuckles, brushing the hair off of Liam’s forehead and pushing it back on top of his head before it flops back down, dissatisfied with being moved around forcefully, apparently.  “The alarm clock at least has a sleep button, where as you, you like never sleep,”

His voice is soft and slow and sleepy and Liam just wants to kiss him so hard that there’s nothing left to his voice but breathy huffs and puffs, flushed cheeks and wide eyes on his face.

“Who needs sleep?” Liam grins, smirking up at his boyfriend as he runs a hand down his back, teasing his nails across the flesh, feeling Alex keen against him.  “Sleep’s for losers,”

Alex pouts across from him.  “That makes me a loser,” He whispers, eyes betrayed before he turns onto his other side away from Liam, wailing into his hands.  “You called me a loser, Liam!”

“That I did,” He chuckles, reaching over to pull at Alex’s hands, to reveal the smirk he knows is there, but Alex puts up a good fight, trapping himself in the seclusion of his hands.

“A loser!  I’m not a loser, Liam!”  He can barely contain his laughter and so he disguises it as a sob.  “How could you, Liam!  Why would you do that?”

Liam’s in hysterics as he rolls over his boyfriend, pressing himself against his back as he kisses down his neck, playing along.  “Oh, I’m so sorry, my mistake, you’re not a loser, are you?  You’re a winner,”

“I can’t be a winner when I’m a loser, Liam!” He sounds like a child but Liam wouldn’t pass him up for the whole wide world.

“I know, that’s why you’re none of that,” He smiles, finally getting Alex’s hands away from his face.  “That’s why you’re my boyfriend instead,”

Alex shakes his head at Liam, puffing out his pillowed lower lip.  “Can’t be that, you said I wasn’t a winner,”

Liam’s heart flips in his chest, his cheeks flushing as he tries to compose himself, Alex looking at him worriedly when he falls silent, their game coming to a shortened end.

He smiles so brightly when Alex pushes his hands away from his face, reaching out to rub a hand over Liam’s own.  “Too far?” 

He wants to kiss him then, wants to kiss him so hard that their lips crash together and they don’t come up for air until they’re on their very final breath, the edge of life or death.

“Never too far,” Liam assures, reaching out to hug at Alex’s waist, the taller boy pulling him in closely, kissing at the crown of his head.   “I love you,”

“I love you too,” Alex whispers against his hair and it makes his heart hammer as much as it did the first time, the effects of him never ceasing to amaze Liam; even the simplest of words make him feel like a school girl with a crush.

He snuggles in close to Alex then, his head resting on his chest as it had been when he’d first woken up, Alex’s arm spread across his stomach and teasing his hip as the day starts to come to life outside of the window, reality catching up with them when the alarm goes off, loud and blaring in Alex’s ear.

“I take it back, you’re definitely not worse than the alarm,” Alex moans, kicking off the covers before trudging through the room, body exposed and Liam can’t help but stare after him until he’s out of the bedroom and in his bathroom, the sound of water running filling his ears as he smiles wide, just knowing he’s got Alex, doesn’t need anything else, just him.

His one and only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	137. Chapter 137

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, I may stop updating daily after the weekend because I've got GCSE exams in three weeks and I've done naff all revision wise. I'm sorry<3

The morning is slow as Niall pushes the pair of them up to up into a more comfortable position having woken Louis softly, brushing underneath his eyes to try and sooth the redness that had settled there, Louis’ eyes fluttering open softly as he smiled around a yawn.

All Niall could do was smile back, brushing his hand down Louis’ cheek and over the sharp ridge of his cheekbone before teasing himself with a glance at Louis’ lips.

“Mornin’,” Louis had whispered, pushing a hand through his hair sleepily as he shut his eyes again, stretching out his arms before he groaned a little in process, stopping his actions.

Niall frowned down at the smaller boy still perched in his lap, stroking his hands up and over the ridge of Louis’ back, trying to get him to relax, to get rid of the crease in Louis’ brow.

“Would you like some Paracetamol or something?” He asked, teasing his fingers in the hem of Louis’ jumper, twisting them to pitch at the thick wool.  “For the pain, like.”

Louis stills in his hands as he asks, his eyes diverting down to his lap as he pulls at the loose, frayed ends of the bandages on his hands.  “I’m alright,” He whispers, looking up cautiously at Niall before ducking his head back down.  “Just a little sore, no need for anything like that.”

Niall nods unsure, not really knowing who’s right, him or Louis but he takes the smaller boy’s word for it, feeling the hesitation rolling off of him in waves before he agrees with Louis, leaving the subject well enough alone.

Louis’ shoulders settle when the words are spoken and he huffs out a quiet breath as he sits still in Niall’s lap, just playing with his fingers before he makes a move to get off of Niall’s lap, Niall’s alarm clock sounding off down the hall in the bedroom.

“Would you like some breakfast?” Niall can hear the uncomforting twist to Louis’ voice as he pushes himself up into a standing position, his legs slightly bent at the knees and he can only imagine how his knees look now, the sore, raw skin probably pulled tight due to the action; he winces at the mere thought.

Louis’ trying to head towards the kitchen on jerky legs as Niall pushes himself up quickly, trailing after the brunette boy. 

“I can make it,” He assures, following Louis as he reaches up to get a frying pan from the top shelf, Louis piercing his lip and clenching his teeth when he reaches up.  “Honestly, Lou, I’ll make it, you sit down,”

“I’m not an invalid, Niall,” Louis mutters, voice harsh, working around him, regardless, as he turns on the hob and sets the pan down adding oil to it before cracking an egg into it.

Louis’ avoiding him, he knows, he just doesn’t know what to do when he feels this _helpless_. 

He’s never been in the situation, isn’t one for looking after people because he doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to break the ice and get to the actual problem at hand, he’s more into the whole wait until it melts approach, but that doesn’t feel right to him, not with Louis and especially not now.

Niall watches on helplessly as Louis stutters around the kitchen on wobbly legs, surprised he hasn’t just crumbled to the floor yet with the way he’s going, but he powers on, sucking his lower lip between his teeth and fighting on.

Niall doesn’t know whether to be proud or pissed at him right now.

“I know you’re not, I just wanted to do it.  You’re my guest,” He says as he leans against the counter near Louis where he’s flicking oil onto the eggs, the heat spitting it back at him.

Louis is quiet for a while before he walks towards the toaster, putting in two pieces of bread and setting them to toaster before he leans himself into the worktop, his back arched as he presses his hands into the surface.

“I know you didn’t mean it,” He sucks in a long hard breath.  “I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,”

He tries to smile, a little broken thing that looks more like it hurts his lips than anything else as he places bacon under the grill, leaving them cook before he turns his back.

“Couldn’t get you to the bed, you were grappled to me like a koala,” Niall chuckles, reaching across to flick on the kettle.  He thinks he sees Louis pout when he does but he wants to help whether Louis is going to let him or not, so he doesn’t stop.

Louis lets out a small laugh at that but it does nothing to match the one that Niall’s heard before, the sound of it dying more or less as soon as it hits Niall’s ears and he hates himself for comparing Louis now to Louis then when he has no idea if there’s any difference between the two, if there actually is a then and a now.

“Would you like to me help, at least?” Niall asks as he pours the drinks, adding just the right amount of water onto the Yorkshire Tea teabag he’s got poised in Louis’ cup, smiling down at the Doncaster Rovers logo emblazoned on its surface, remembers Louis’ face when he’d found it in the cupboard after Niall had bought it for him, how he’d smile so wide at it.

When he lifts his eyes from stirring their drinks he immediately meets Louis’ eyes, the Doncaster boy smiling softly across at him, his lips tipped up into a sad little smile.  “You don’t have to pity me, y’know?”

His voice sounds young but experienced as he speaks and Niall can’t even begin to process that, how he can sound so different at the same time.

“I’m not pitying you,” Niall whispers, reaching across to hand Louis his drink, watching him to make sure he made it right, feeling a bit self-conscious until Louis’ eyes brighten considerably and he goes in for another mouthful.  He grins.

Louis makes nothing of his words as he speaks, just lowering his mug to the countertop every so often so that he can flick oil onto the egg before he’s lifting it from the pan and lowering it onto a plate, the toast popping straight after and the bacon not much later.

He lowers the plate down onto the kitchen table, setting it in the seat that Niall usual occupies before he pulls out a knife and a fork from the drawer, sliding them down next to it. “You not going to eat?”

Niall’s eyes widen when he looks down at the plate, finally puts two and two together as he realises that Louis had previously said he wasn’t a massive fan of bacon.  “This is for me?”

Louis nods small, eyes hopeful as he looks over the food quickly, chewing on his lower lip.  “Yeah,” He whispers and Niall can’t do anything but eat the food, wants to anyway, but the way that Louis’ looking like a kicked puppy makes his chest hurt, makes him want to eat it so much more than he initially did.

“Thanks, Lou,” He smiles, reaching out to tap his finger against Louis’ arm in thanks, sliding himself down into his seat.  “Aren’t you having anything?”

“Was going to get some toast, or something,” He whispers, his eyes focused on Niall and he just wants him to sit down, to lower himself into the chair opposite him so that the sun can hit him _just_ _so_ and he can try to forget the fact that there’s a dirty great scrape across Louis’ forehead.

“There’s some crumpets in the breadbin,” Louis looks amused as he speaks and it makes him continue, needing to see the smile just a little bit longer.  “I like them, okay?  They’re nice, don’t laugh at them.”

Louis nods, grinning across at him and looking at him through his eyelashes before he heads towards the breadbin, picking one out of the packet and carrying it back across to the table, nibbling at it curiously before going in for bigger bites.

He watches on amused as he eats it, pulling off pieces of crumpet and almost examining it before he lifts it to his lips, biting the piece in half before chewing softly as he plays with the piece left between his fingers.

“You not going to toast it or put something on it?” Niall asks as he slowly dips a piece of toast into the yolk of his egg, watching Louis affectionately when he stares wide eyed down at the crumpet between his fingers.

“Is that what you’re supposed to do?” He asks, pulling it away from his mouth and poking at it.  “It tastes good like this,”

“Then eat it like that then,” Niall grins, reaching his leg out under the table to tease his feet across Louis’ shin, recoiling when Louis whimpers.  “Shit, sorry, Lou.”

Niall stares wide eyed at the brunette boy as he tries to figure out what he should do as Louis nibbles on his lips, picking at the crumpet.  “I’m fine,”

The blonde boy shakes his head, lowering his cutlery to the tabletop, watching the older boy carefully with a sad smile.  “Don’t lie to me, Lou,” He whispers, voice soft as if he’s speaking to a scared animal.

Louis’ shoulder slump when Niall doesn’t let him get away with it this time, pulling his legs towards himself and away from Niall’s feet as he nibbles at the crumpet, ducking his eyes to his lap as he hides his other hand under the tabletop.

A solemn silence sits between them then until Louis whispers if Niall’s going to eat his breakfast, keeping his eyes ducked the entire time and Niall wants to scream, doesn’t know what to do with himself at all, just picks his fork back up and tries to swallow the cooling food around the lump that’s settled in his throat.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Niall whispers, assuring, when Louis doesn’t lift his eyes again, keeps them firmly towards his lap, his hair falling down onto his forehead as he shakes his leg under the table.

The city plays on outside of his window as if nothing’s changed, as though everything’s the same as it had been the day before and Niall wishes, he wishes so badly, that that was the case. 

He can’t stand seeing Louis leant on one side of his chair only, perching himself on one side of his body as he stays more or less stock still, breaths looking to be painful as he sucks them in, forcing them out.  He looks battered and bruised and broken and half of his injuries are hidden beneath his clothes or buried deep under his skin.

If he were to recite all of the injuries that he knew were scattered unceremoniously across Louis’ body, he’d be there for hours and he’d be in floods of tears. 

He knows he would be, feels them start to prick at the backs of his eyes as he just thinks about it, torturing himself with a glance at the bruises around Louis’ neck, big and bright and blue against the tan of his skin.

They’re in the shape of fingerprints and that just hurts that little bit more, he can’t just pass them off as being marks or bruises; they’re finger marks. 

Marks where someone’s pressed so deeply into Louis’ skin that it’s burst the blood vessels, the crevices of nail marks inconsistently topping them off around the circumference of his neck.

“I want to tell you,” Louis whispers as Niall continues to press food to his lips, staring down at his plate as he can’t stand looking at the thick black bags under Louis’ eyes, the starkness of marks against his skin.

He startles when he hears the words, feels himself jump before he composes himself again, looking at Louis with honest eyes, confused but desperate to help, to know how he can help; he needs to help.

“Then why don’t you?” Niall asks softly, not quite knowing where the line he’s not allowed to cross is anymore, not sure if there ever actually has been one between them, really.

Louis sucks in a breath before he answers and Niall knows he’s composing himself, can feel the uncertainty in the air between them as Louis plays with the crumpet, picking at it mindlessly.

“Because I don’t know what I’d do if you hated me because of it.”

“I could never hate you,”

“You might end up doing, you don’t know for sure.”

“I wouldn’t.”

He tries to make himself sound as forceful and as sure as possible as he looks deep into Louis soul, trying to tell him that he’s not going to leave, that he can’t leave, doesn’t want to, doesn’t think he ever will.

That he might be in love with him.

Louis ducks his head not much later, pulling at the crumpet again as Niall continues to watch him, just admiring him with a sad smile as a silence falls around them once again, neither of them speaking as the words settle into both of their skin, sinking into their hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own, and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	138. Chapter 138

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I genuinely have no idea what I'm writing anymore, my plot's gone down the drain and I'm stuck in a rut:(

Louis sticks to his side that morning, Niall noticing it more than normal now that Louis’ hands are wrapped up tightly in bandages, his skin still tacky with the residue from the antiseptic cream.

He watches Louis wash up in silence, lets him get on with it when he looks at him with pleading eyes, as if he knows that Niall wants to disagree, say he’ll do it instead but he doesn’t want to upset Louis, lets him do it regardless of how he feels about it all.

The sound of sloshing water and zooming cars fills the silence around them, neither boy speaking and just the clinking of their cutlery and plates speaking in the dull numbness as Niall watches the shorter boy, how he places all of his weight on one leg, leaving the other one limp and vacant.

Niall wants to speak, wants to understand Louis, wants to ask him what happened, but when he prepares himself to ask Louis’ eyes go all round and shiny and big and he just can’t, sucking back up his discomfort with the entire situation and letting Louis get away with it again.

It’s not really getting away with it, he reminds himself, frowning at his choice of words.  It’s more like leaving him to it, letting him take it all in, try to understand what he’s been through.  But he seems to be over it, really.

Sure, he’s mottled with marks, scratches and bruises, but he’s almost content with the entire situation; until Niall brings it up.

It’s then that he looks like Niall expects him to, when he curls in on himself and looks like a deer caught in headlights, his entire life flashing before his eyes as his hands twist into fists, hissing at the pain the action shoots through his veins, the bandages creasing unceremoniously in his palms.

He wants to say it, say the words that have been stuck in his throat the entire night, almost suffocating him the longer they stay trapped, but he feels like he’s betraying Louis if he asks, if he says the words Louis’ begging him not to.

“Would you like that shower now?” Niall asks as he comes to stand next to Louis near the sink, flicking on the kettle and setting up their mugs before he leans back, watching how Louis’ bandages are soaked from the dishwater when he becomes impatient with the solemn silence around them.

The Doncaster boy tips his head to the side, as if confused, as he watches Niall, hands vacant in the water as he stops scrubbing at Niall’s plate, attention falling purely on Niall alone and he wants to look away, to dip his head, but this is the first time for a good hour that Louis’ actually looked him in the eye; he’s not going to waste it.

“Yeah, I would; thanks, Ni,” Niall smiles at the reintroduction of his nickname into their relationship again, stomach flipping when Louis leaves off those final few letters of his name like he always does.

“I just go turn it on for you, it’s a bit temperamental,” He explains, pushing himself away from the worktop as the kettle continues to boil behind him, the water bubbling inside it. 

It’s nice, he thinks, as he heads across the kitchen, the whole situation feels rather _domestic_ , really, and normally that wouldn’t have him running for the hills or anything, would just put him on edge a little bit, the idea of someone shuffling themselves into your private life, setting up so close.  But it doesn’t.

It makes a comforting heat pool in his belly that feels so foreign yet just so _lovely_ that he doesn’t want to push it away, likes the way it settles in his stomach, twisting its way up through his chest and curling around his heart, tucking itself inside.

“Ni,” Louis whispers just as Niall’s about to walk out the kitchen door, his mind in a far off land of majestic sea blue eyes and brunette hair styled by pixies and magical frogs before he catches the quiet of Louis’ voice, turning to face him. 

“Yeah, Lou?”

Louis stays still with an unsure smile on his face before he starts to tread carefully across the tiles of the kitchen floor, keeping his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyes at Niall’s chest, not looking up until they’re in front of one another and Louis’ breath is ghosting over the bow of Niall’s lip.

Until it’s not just ghosting and his lips are pressed against Niall’s mouth, the softness of Louis’ lips like a piece of heaven he’s tasted before but just can’t seem to memorize, changing every time that he kisses him, like an unsolvable riddle. 

His unsolvable riddle.

“Thanks,” Louis whispers against his face, his eyes shut as he tucks his hand into Niall’s hip, just holding onto him before he looks up, eyes bright and brilliant and blue and Niall’s lost for anymore words to describe them, the syllables stuck in his throat.  “For everything,”

“I haven’t done anything,” Niall whispers back, voice lodged into the back of his throat as he pokes his tongue out to lick at his lips, to wet them and take in the taste of _Louis Louis Louis_.

“You’ve done everything,” He replies, stroking a tender hand down the side of Niall’s face before he squeezes at Niall’s hip, scooting round him to head towards the shower and Niall can’t do anything about it, doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond to that when he knows he’s done nothing.

He wasn’t there to save the one he loves from the dangers of the world, so how can he have done everything?

He knocks his head back into the wood of the doorframe, clenching his hands into fists before uncurling them and raking his fingers through his hair, pulling harshly at the strands.  He needs to get Zayn to dye it again.

He chokes out a pitiful laugh at himself, the man he’s in love with has been ripped into teeny tiny, bloody miniscule pieces and all he can think about is his hair.  Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	139. Chapter 139

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title names would be lovely. If you have any ideas, leave them in a comment that particular chapter and I will pick my favourite to be the name:) I'll credit you if I chose your idea:)
> 
> Hope you have a good day:)

The grime seems to wash of his body easily, trickling away once the water hits it, tumbling down the drain of the shower and away into the unquestionable darkness.

He breathes a sigh of relief as he runs his hands through his hair, digging them into his scalp to feel the press and burn of them against the thin skin as he washes out Niall’s shampoo.

It smells like apples and it reminds him of that first night when Niall slipped him into his bed, the pillow soft under his head and the duvet warm around his limbs before he’s uncurled himself from it and pulled the blonde boy into it with him.

He taps his fingers against the base of his spine then, drumming out nameless songs against his skin, mind tripping back to when Niall had done it, his fingers careful yet passionate as he’d drummed the rhythms across the breath of Louis’ skin.

He smiles when he starts tapping out _Hey There Delilah_ against his skin, remembers how Niall’s fingers had ghosted so effortlessly across his back as he’d played it, as if he knew every cord, every change in the rhythm, the tone.

The water starts to go cold around him as he stays trapped in his own mind, his heartbeat seeming to match with the tune he’s tapping into his back before registers the chill running down his spine. 

“Oh, it’s what you do to me, what you do to me.” He sings, fingers coming to a standstill as he lets the cold water run over his body, goose bumps lumping up on his skin but it just heightens the sensation, making his toes curl as the droplets trickle over his shoulders.

The cold of the water is nice against his skin, feels good as it forces itself onto his flesh before bouncing off and rolling down his skin to the drain.  The droplets skirt around his scratches, as if showing some compassion towards him, but he wants to make sure they’re clean, rubs at them lightly with the palm of his hand and some shower gel.

It smells like Niall.  Jesus.

Once he’s rinsed himself down and shut off the shower he stands inside the glass box for a little while longer, watches the steam start to be extracted from the air, clearing the room before he steps out.

There’s a clean, fresh towel on the radiator and a pair of joggers and another shirt and hoodie next to it and Louis smiles, towelling at his hair, the strands too long and straggly around his face.  He needs to get his hair cut.

He pushes that though to the back of his mind as he slips on the clothes, grabbing his pink toothbrush from the holder by the sink - rolling his eyes at the memory of it - and scrubbing away the taste of anything that isn’t Niall from his tongue.

His mouth feels clean and his body ready as he steps out of the room, the final plumes of steam billowing out of the bathroom around him as he treads through Niall’s apartment, looking for the blonde boy.

“Niall?” He calls as he ducks his head into the open doors of the rooms down the short hallway, not finding Niall wherever he looks.  “Niall?”

He slips himself through into the living area of Niall’s flat, picking the pillows that have become splayed out over the floor back up and putting them back on the sofa.

“I don’t know what I should do though, Zee,” Niall’s voice is a whisper but he still hears it, stopping himself when he hears the mention of Harry’s name.  “He probably knows, but I don’t and I _need_ to, Zayn, you know I do.”

Louis tiptoes around the sofa, peeking a quick look into the kitchen where Niall’s got his back turned, mobile pressed close to his ear.

“I’ve never been in a relationship before, never been in anything and I don’t know what to do, especially not now.  Tell me what to do, _please_?” He sounds frustrated as he whines the final word and Louis wants to wrap his arms around him and kiss away that tone, the slant of his shoulders.

“Zee, I love you, you know that, but don’t be an arse.  I don’t know what to do-” He pauses his speech as he listens to the Zayn on the other end of the phone.  “Well he hasn’t told me, Zayn, you’ve got no idea what I’ve seen and I just want answers.  That’s all I want; that and to know how to fix it.”

“Please, Zee, tell me what’s wrong with him?” His voice cracks as he speaks and he reaches his hand out to balance himself in front of the worktop in front of him, the washing up complete now and draining on the side.  “What’s wrong with Lou?”

He freezes then, smile dying on his lips immediately as his face falls, tears pricking at the backs of his eyes as he hears Niall talk about him as if he’s _broken_ and he doesn’t know why he feels so _betrayed_ by that, because he is broken, it just hurts to know that Niall knows it.

He sucks in a calming breath as he tries to listen to what else Niall has to say, tries to give him the benefit of the doubt.  He needs to, doesn’t even know why he is, but he is and he doesn’t question it any further.

“But he’s not telling me, Zee!” Niall whisper shouts, fingers clenching tighter on the worktop as he speaks, Louis’ doing the same around the pillow still caught in his hand.

“What if he never tells me though?” Niall whispers, voice breathy and hoarse as he speaks, shoulders hunched before they fall, defeated.  “I know, I know, it just hurts that he’s not telling me something.”

He laughs out a small, humourless chuckle that makes Louis’ heart hurt in his chest as he moves closer to the doorway, leaning against it as he watches Niall, the slump of his shoulders and how he drums his fingers against the worktop like he had Louis’ skin.

“I know I haven’t asked him directly, it just doesn’t feel right to yet,” He mumbles, running a hand through his hair, gripping at the ends of the strands and pulling.  “Also, I need you to come dye my hair again, if you will, before I forget to ask.”

Louis grins at the blonde boy, reaching up to fiddle with his hair, remembering his own annoyance at his hair not that long ago; they could go and have it done together or something.  He sounds like a right girl, he frowns.

“I’ll ask him, promise,” He says.  “But what do I do if he walks out or something, I can’t handle that.”

“Ask me,” Louis whispers from the doorway and something in Niall seems to almost flinch at the sound of the voice before he turns around, phone pressed to his ear as his face goes white.

“Ask me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	140. Chapter 140

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really rather short, in my opinion, but anyway, I hope you enjoy it:) Also, just to let you know, tomorrow's update will be the only definite daily update for a while because my exams are two weeks away (help meeee!!) and I really need all the time I can get to revise. I'll try to update as often as I can but I don't think I'll be able to everyday.

Niall’s mouth falls open, eyes widening as he looks at Louis, his hand slowly falling away from his ear, the phone going down with it as the words he was going to say die on his tongue, tumbling back down his throat and burning in the pit of his stomach.

“Niall?” Zayn’s voice is laced with static and quiet in the air, an edge of concern in it as it gets louder in the quiet of Niall’s flat until Niall disconnects the call, his fingers fumbling with it as he keeps his eyes on Louis.

They stand there for a while, the morning starting to ignite the backdrop of the sky behind Niall, framing him as it shines in through the window whilst neither of them speak, not knowing quite what to say.

“What?” Niall whispers, his phone clenched between his fingers as he watches Louis, eyes unsure, technically totally unsure; he has no idea whether he’s imagined those words or not or whether Louis has just said them.

“Ask me,” Louis’ voice is sure and gentle as he speaks, standing upright off of the doorframe, his hands down by his side as he smiles small. 

His face is soft and his hair a mess onto of his head, matted and damp on his head as he speaks, eyes bright and blue in the morning light that coats his face, making him shimmer.  Niall smiles.  “Ask me.”

Niall’s heart stops dead in his chest, heart jumping up to sit on the back of his tongue as his blood goes cold, freezing in his veins, leaving him motionless and shaking as the words ricochet around his ear drums, bouncing in his head and echoing through his entire being.

Louis watches him, tries to read into the crease in Niall’s brow, the tremor in his lips when he doesn’t answer.  He doesn’t want to push him, doesn’t know to what extent Niall actually wants to know about what’s happened, nor does he know what he wants to tell him, which parts he wants to protect him from.

He wants to tell him, wants to tell him of it all, wants to let Niall in and snuggle up into the warmth of his being, watch all of the darkness and horror fade away as it’s blasted by the shine of Niall’s smile and character.

Niall makes no move to speak, his eyes wide and his breathing shallow as they just watch one another, both of their hearts racing in their chests as the day starts to roll on around them.

“Ask me,” Louis whispers, putting one foot in front of the other slowly, watching Niall for any sign of discomfort as he moves his way across the kitchen, standing in front of the blonde boy, tipping his head back slightly to look into his eyes, to see into the depths of the baby blue.

He takes Niall’s hand between his own, peeling the mobile from between his fingers before stroking over the taut skin of Niall’s hand, trying to calm and soothe the tense set of his body. 

“You can ask me whatever; I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

His words make his own heart hammer in his chest as he maintains eye contact with the younger boy, but they’re true; he’ll tell Niall anything and everything he wants, will do anything to make him happy, to keep a constant smile on his face and a content gleam in his eyes.

“You don’t need to tell me anything,” Niall whispers, trying to place a mirthful grin on his face that makes Louis wince; it looks far too out of place on his lips to do anything but. 

Niall should always be smiling, that’s what he was born to do, that and laughing; they look perfect on him, Louis thinks.  He smiles just at the thought.

“But what if I wanted to?” He strokes over the knuckles of Niall’s hand, the skin soft under his fingertips, the bones gradual and graceful inclines between the dips of his skin.  “What if I wanted you to know?”

Niall watches him for a while, his eyes scrutinising as he looks over Louis’ face, he brunette boy’s cheeks heating under the intensity of his gaze.

“You want me to know?” Louis nods softly in response, smiling despite himself before he begins nibbling on his lower lip, keeping his eyes on Niall.  “Are you sure?”

Louis gulps, not trusting himself to answer the question that he’s yet to set to himself; does he really want anyone to know? 

It hurt enough when Harry and Zayn found out the first time; when Harry’s eyes flashed with something both regretful and predatory and Zayn had looked as if he understood more than he let on, as if he knew what he’d been through to some extent.

It had rattled something inside of him, something he had no name for, that he couldn’t put his finger on, but it had been there and it had changed somewhat when they found out.  Had changed something inside of him so dramatically that he couldn’t remember how it had felt before it had been tampered with.

But he wouldn’t change if for the world.

“I do,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	141. Chapter 141

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the final official daily update until my exams finish:( They start on the 13th May and until the 23rd and then I have a weeks holiday before they begin again and finally, finally end on the 13th June. 
> 
> I'll try to update as often as I can but I do need to get some revision done because they're GCSE's and if I fail then I'm going nowhere in life and I'd quite like to go somewhere. Where, I have no idea but I'd like to go anyway:)
> 
> Anyway I hope you enjoy and let me know your thoughts, yeah? This is gonna be an almighty cliffhanger, sort of, not really, who knows?

The pair of them watch each other with soft eyes, fingers entwined and heartbeats drumming together rhythmically before Niall swoops his head down, pressing his lips to the corner of Louis’ mouth.

“Sorry,” He whispers as he slowly pulls his face away from Louis’, his breath fanning out over his lips.  “Really wanted to do that,”  Niall’s face has barely moved away, he’s so close that Louis could probably count his eyelashes if he had the willpower not to look into the depths of Niall’s eyes instead, trying to name the breathtaking blue that colours them.

“I really wanted you to do that too,” Louis chuckles, smiling up at the slightly taller boy before he wraps his hands around Niall’s torso, squeezing lightly at his hips, slotting his bare feet around Niall’s socked one.

Niall grins down at the brunette boy, his eyes magnificent and breathtakingly blue as the sunlight hits him just right, skin shining beautifully in the morning light and Louis can barely breathe.

“I really like you, Louis,” Niall whispers, cheeks mottled with a soft, rosy pink as he speaks, licking out to wet his lips nervously once he’s spoken.

“I really like you too, Ni,” The smaller boy whispers back effortlessly, grinning widely when Niall does the same, tension seeping from their beings and off into the morning air, floating up into yellowy-orange sky.

The flat is peaceful around them as they take in each other’s gleaming smiles and bright eyes, the creases in their faces that form as they smile at one another.

I’d  be happy to die so long as I got to watch Niall smile before I left the world, Louis thinks, stroking his hands tenderly over the slender planes of Niall’s sides, the Irish boy occasionally wiggling away, muttering a hushed, breathy _ticklish_ into the air between them.

Louis doesn’t want to wreck the moment, not when Niall’s watching him with such affection and admiration, something he’s not had placed upon him in a long time; it’s nice to feel wanted again.

The final word rings in his head, bouncing off of the memories in his head, into his ear drums and rattling through his bones until they feel weak with it all.  Again.

The memories start to pollute his mind when he opens up to the idea that he’s not the same person he used to be, that there’s only fragments of his former self left; but at least there’s still something.

“What are you thinking about, Lou?” Niall whispers, running his finger across Louis’ forehead to try and smooth out the crease in it, to get rid of the faraway look in his eyes.

Louis doesn’t respond straightaway, his memories still billowing out of the barricaded box he’s pushed to the back of his mind but when they just stay in the shadows, as if tempting him to join them, trying to drag him in, he cottons onto the sounds of Niall’s Irish lilt.

“I’m sorry, what?  I was faraway; away with the fairies,” Louis laughs lightly to himself, cheeks flushing in a tender blush when he feels Niall’s gaze settle on him harder, his eyes boring into his heart, and Louis likes it.

“You mean the pixies?” Louis tips his head to the side; he’s sure the saying is away with the fairies, isn’t it?  “I meant the ones that come and do your hair with their magical froggy friends,”

Louis’ cheeks darken then, ducking his head and pushing a hand through his hair.  “Urgh, my hair,” He mutters under his breath, shying away from Niall’s hand that’s heading for his hair, trying to escape it but failing.

“I like it,” Niall says, smiling as he runs his fingers through the strands, careful of knots as he teases his fingertips through the brunette locks.  “It looks cute,”

Louis flicks his head up at Niall, poking his tongue of his mouth in a childish gesture that has Niall laughing bright and boldly at him; it sends chills down Louis’ spine.  “That’s exactly why I need to sort it out; I’m not cute.”

Niall’s laughter dies down after a while but it still stays ringing in Louis’ ears, designing the beating of his heart as the organ tries to copy its melody.

“You are cute,” Niall chuckles, running his fingers over the thick stubble that’s placed itself along Louis’ jaw, scratching at the strands playfully.  “Even if you look a little bit like a bear,” He grins down at Louis and it makes his heart hurt.  “A grizzly bear though, not a teddy bear, obviously,”

Louis smiles up at Niall when he fixes his statement before he scratches his nails lightly over Niall’s sides.  “Grrr,”

The younger boy breaks out into laughter at that, throwing his head back and exposing the column of his throat to Louis and he just wants to kiss it, to feel the constant thrum of Niall’s heartbeat under his lips.

So he does.

It’s chaste and soft and gentle and leaves his heart a thumping mess in his chest as he pulls away and Niall looks down at him with caring eyes and strokes over his lower lip before pressing a gentle, honest kiss to them.

It’s over not much later than when it started but that doesn’t matter when Louis’ cheeks are pink and his heart is a hammering mess in his chest and he can’t stop himself from curling into Niall’s body, tucking himself as close as physically possible, breathing him in.

“I really hope you don’t hate me when I tell you, Ni,” He whispers against the flimsy cotton of Niall’s shirt that’s littered with wrinkles from sleep but so soft against his face that nothing else matters.

“Could never hate you, Lou,”

But you could though, that’s the thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	142. Chapter 142

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't supposed to happen, I was supposed to abide my own rules and revise and not write this, but God, it's addicting trying to please you guys, so here you go.
> 
> I will abide by my own rules in future.

Louis relocates them into the living room carefully, his fingers entwined with Niall’s as he tugs him through the flat carefully before settling down on the sofa and crossing his legs over one another.

“You sure you want to know?” He asks once Niall’s settled himself on the sofa, his body twisted to face Louis’ own.

“Only if you want me to know,” Niall smiles, reaching across the gap between the sofa cushions to pull at Louis’ foot, tucking it under his thigh with a gentle blush on his face as Louis watches him amused and endeared and confused all at the same time. 

“I like it when you do that,” Niall explains and Louis shifts to tuck his foot under further, wiggling his toes against the meat of Niall’s thigh, earning a wider, secret smile in response.

Louis stares down at the partition between their bodies, how they meet so effortlessly in the middle as Niall reaches out a hand to press it into Louis’ shin gently.  “You don’t need to tell me, I can handle just knowing I have you, don’t need anything more,” Niall whispers, voice soft and considerate and honest as he speaks, making Louis’ heart flutter in his chest even more than it just had been doing.

He closes his eyes quickly, pulling in a long, drawn out breath before releasing it and opening his eyes once again, Niall’s orbs just as honest as they were before he closed them, the same as back when they’d only just met all those months ago.

“I think you can guess what happened, really, but I was,” He flicks his eyes down to his fingers, messing with them nervously before looking up into Niall’s eyes once again, feeling the power to push on when his brain doesn’t want to, his tongue knotting up to stop him in a last ditch attempt.  “Attacked.”

“I was pushed against a wall and I can’t really remember much else, without being too graphic, but I remember my head hitting a wall and being scraped across it for a while and hearing someone talking to me as it all happened.”

He swallows deeply, throat constricting around his words when he tries to get them out, voice turning gravelly the longer he lets himself think about it all, but he doesn’t feel upset with himself; there’s no tears pricking the backs of his eyes, yet.

“I remember feeling my stomach bottom out when I couldn’t hear your voice in my ear anymore because I’d dropped my phone in the scramble, and I know that you came out and saved me, that you’re the reason that I’m here right now.”

He smiles small up at Niall and his blue eyes look so shiny as Louis looks up into them, but he pushes on, knows that the longer he watches Niall the less he’ll be able to say, and he wants to say it all.

“I could feel the rain seeping through my skin and chilling my bones, I was just so frightened and I didn’t know what to do with myself, how to make it stop.  I’ve never been told how to make it stop, so I couldn’t.”

His voice hitches in his throat and his tongue feels too big in his mouth, as if one false move and it will tumble down his throat and choke him.

“It’s not really the normal thing they teach you is it, how to stop yourself from being abused,” He laughs sadly at his own attempt at a joke but Niall doesn’t make a sound, just keeps listening intently instead.

He feels a heavy weight settle in his stomach when he sees the frown on Niall’s face, how his lips aren’t tipped up into a smile or stretched wide into a laugh; it hurts to know he’s put that sad look on his face.

He’s not quite sure what else to say, how much detail to go into anymore, doesn’t really want to admit the more graphic details to himself, let alone Niall right now, so he stops, heart hammering in his chest.

“But anyway, it happened and it’s over now, isn’t it?  Nothing left to do now other than move on really, is there?  Second time’s the charm, or so they say.”

He scratches at his chin self-consciously when Niall makes no move to speak, to do anything but look at him with wide, sad eyes and a drooping frown, his face sincere and ghostly pale.

He tries for a small smile, rocking his toes into Niall’s leg to try and get his attention properly, to make him face him and stop looking at him like he’s just a piece of breakable china. 

“Ni,” He whispers, running his toes over Niall’s clothed flesh.  “You alright?”

Niall shakes his head after a while; eyes still set staring towards Louis as he does so, shoulders slumping before he reaches a hand out to stop the nervous finger twirling that Louis’ doing.  

“Please stop,” He begs, voice quiet and unusually subdued.  “Please stop trying to make it out to be something that can be brushed under the table and forgotten about,”

His heart plummets at the broken tone to Niall’s voice.  “I’m not; it’s just not that big of a deal, Ni.”

“You were raped.”

The words hit him like silver bullets to the heart, made to be beautiful but to injure him also. 

It hurts, hearing the words fall from Niall’s lips, knowing that he knows what rape is, that he’s been exposed to the horrors in the world and that he knows; knows what Louis means when he says he was ‘attacked’.

“You were raped and that’s ‘not that big of a deal’?” Niall sounds choked up, his hands forming fists in his lap as he twists himself round fully on the sofa to watch Louis, eyes ablaze with emotions and newly formed tears.

Louis reaches out to wipe them from his eyes, but Niall turns his head away before he gets the chance to.  His heart plummets. 

“Of course it’s a big deal, but it’s over now, isn’t it?” He whispers, pulling his hand back to sit it in his lap as if he’s just been burnt by the contact and really that would probably have hurt him less, if he’s being honest.

“ _No_ ,” Niall chokes out, voice raw.  “No, it’s not over; you can’t let someone get away with this!”  He’s frustrated, Louis can tell by the pinch of his voice.  “You need to tell the police.”

His dream from last night crashes to the front of his mind at Niall’s words, the policeman stood over his body before he’d been zipped up in a plastic bag and delivered to a lab to be cut up and examined, how the policeman had looked at him as if he knew him and it’s only then that Louis can attach the face and voice with a name.

“Ben Thatcher.” He whispers, wiggling in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable, his skin too hot and his blood too cold as it runs through his veins.

He wrings his wrists with his hands, mind racing with all of the subconscious images that had bleached his thoughts last night, how _real_ they’d felt to him, as though he’d lived through them in a sense.

Niall’s watching him, confused, reaching out his hands to still the shake in Louis’ hands, pulling the sharp edges of his nails from his skin after they start to leave red scratches and scrapes over his tan skin.  “Lou, what do you mean?  Talk to me, yeah?”

“I’ve already told the police.”

“You have?  When?”

And that’s the bullet in Russian Roulette, isn’t it?   The thing no one wants to find and he’s going to end up killing himself either way; whether he points the gun at himself and tells Niall the truth now or if he lies and gets himself shot in the heart later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	143. Chapter 143

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to stick to my own rules, seriously.

His stomach clenches in his abdomen, muscles seeming to constrict around it easily, making him wince in pain as his stomach is scrunched up so tightly that he’s surprised he hasn’t got internal bleeding.

Louis’ face seems to pale the moment the words leave Niall’s mouth and it makes his stomach twist uncomfortably before plummeting down into his little toe.

The Doncaster boy’s body tenses next to him instantly, his breath hitching in his throat and his eyes widening before he quickly clenches them shut, his shoulders lifting defensively.

“After it happened,” He mumbles, shuffling across the sofa, peeling his foot out from under Niall’s leg and his body feels cold immediately at the loss of contact with the older male.

Louis’ voice is stiff and cold as he speaks, eyes nervous and twitching in their sockets as he pulls his lower lip between his teeth, chewing at it nervously as he wrings his wrists with his hands again.

Niall reaches across to pull Louis’ wrists from the clutches of his hands, seeing the red marks starting to blossom up around them, tinting the skin and highlighting the protrusion of his wrist bone, but Louis tenses up.

He pulls his hand back, as if burnt when it comes in contact with the icy coolness of Louis’ flesh, shocks of electricity firing through his veins before he forces his hand away and back into his lap as he nurses it against his chest.

He doesn’t know quite what to do with himself then, his body sort of shutting down when Louis curls in on himself, ducking his head and hiding his face behind his shaggy strands of hair.

“Lou, I’m sorry, you don’t need to tell me,” He says, voice clear as day as he tries to get the words out and stop the frantic shifting of Louis’ eyes as they flick between the door to the flat and Niall’s eyes.  “I just got carried away, I’m sorry.”

He’d say that Louis looked a bit more relaxed after that if his shoulders had lost their nervous peek, his eyes their unsure gleam and his skin earning back some colour, but it doesn’t happen, so he has to try and find something else to cheer himself up with.

Louis stays quiet for a while, twisting himself round on the sofa to face Niall properly and even though he’s not meeting his eyes, it’s lovely just to see the contours of his face, the bow of his lips before a shit storm happens.

The shit storm he was expecting doesn’t come; instead all he gets is an armful of Doncaster boy whose skin smells like his shower gel and hair scented like apples, making him smile when he notices the smell on his own body.

He feels rather protective of Louis at the best of times, but right now his instincts are on full alert, his body twisted round perfectly to pull Louis into his body, to protect and preserve him from the horror that come from outside of the flat.

Niall knows what’s out there, seen more than his fair share of what shit happen out there, been witness to quite a few cases of it and it makes something bubble up viciously in his stomach, all hot and fiery inside of him as he lets his memories run riot with his emotions.

His fingers clench possessively in the baggy jumper that’s barely hooked onto Louis’ body, the shoulders too broad and the neckline too wide, his shoulder slipping out of it easily. 

Louis’ body feels much smaller against his own when he does, the material sagging around his fingertips as he pulls him impossibly closer, grip tight and unforgiving on the material.

They’re no longer sat on opposite cushions on the sofa, their bodies pressed against one another as Louis allows himself to be tucked into Niall’s chest, letting himself be pulled onto Niall’s lap and curling in instinctively when the cotton of Niall’s shirt hits his skin.

Louis’ breathing is rhythmic and soothing as it blasts through the thin cotton of Niall’s shirt, Louis’ mouth positioned just above Niall’s heart as he breathes in and out, the brunette boy’s back rising and falling against Niall’s fingers as he inhales and exhales softly.

Niall’s fingers stay hooked in the fabric of Louis’ clothing as he rests his head against the top of Louis’ head, the Doncaster boy tucking his face into Niall’s neck not much later as he brings his arms around Niall’s torso, hugging him carefully.

Niall’s heart races in his chest at the feel of Louis’ fingers as they run at his sides, feeling the need to squirm and struggle away when it tickles but he doesn’t, tries to stay strong for Louis when he’s staying calm for him.

“Thought you said you were ticklish,” Louis whispers, running his fingers more intently across Niall’s sides, dipping them up and under his shirt slightly, fingers warm against his skin, forcing goose bumps to bubble up on his skin, a shiver running down his spine.

“I am,” Niall whispers, fighting off the laugh in his voice as he tries to control himself, to stop his body from wiggling like it wants to and instead keeping himself as still as possible, trying not to let his body get the better of him.

Louis shakes his head against his neck, blowing a raspberry against his flesh that has Niall squirming away instantly, pushing Louis away playfully as the brunette boy laughs, eyes clenched and lips tipped up into a smile.

Niall watches fascinated with Louis as a whole as he laughs, watches the way his eyes scrunch up lightly in their sockets and his lips contort into a wide smile, cheeks pinching with it as his eyebrows lift up slightly, framing the happy gleam in his eyes; the finishing touch.

“What’re you looking at?” Louis whispers, laugh still cottoning on to the end of his words as he speaks, cheeks flushing as he dips his head, looking down at the drawstrings of his joggers, fiddling with them nervously, lip between his teeth.

“You,” He whispers, reaching a hand out to tap at Louis’ lip, the older boy releasing his lip instantly before he looks up into Niall’s eyes with nervous orbs.  “Now stop biting your lip, you’ll end up hurting yourself,”

Louis smiles small up at him, looking up at him through his eyelashes as he does so, cheeks slightly pink as he reaches up to scratch at the stubble that’s settled on his chin and over his jaw, nibbling on his lip subconsciously.

“Plus, if you keep biting them, then I won’t be able to do this,” Niall whispers, lowering his head down to press his lips against Louis’ softly, waiting for the older boy to respond before he licks over the slight gash that biting at it had caused, trying to sooth it.

Louis’ breath hitches against his mouth when he does it, but his body just folds into Niall’s own, so he doesn’t stop.  Just continues licking at the seam of Louis’ lips softly, testing the waters before he pulls away, smiling wide at the blushing boy, knowing his cheeks are the exact same shade of red.

“That is a good reason not to bite them,” Louis whispers, breathlessly, licking out over his pillowed lips, brushing his tongue over them carefully and Niall wants to swoop back in; wants to mark his territory.

He scares himself when he thinks of Louis as something that he can own, like he’s an object that he can either keep or throw away and it makes him feel a little bit sick, the fact he even thought those things.

Louis isn’t something he can own, he’s something that he wants and wants to love, he’s a real human being that’s been disrespected in the most inhumane way and it hurts Niall to even begin to think about it, but he wants to change that, wants to be the one to show Louis love, actual real and true love.

He wants to be the one; the one for Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	144. Chapter 144

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like I've not updated in ages but it's only been a few days - this is how big this story is in my life, I haven't known what to do with myself without it! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, let me know maybe?
> 
> Also, if you have any ideas for chapter titles, please leave your ideas on that specific chapter and I'll decide which I like best and credit you:) It's like having your own little piece of this story, because this is for you guys, all of it, every single word and and emotion and full stop, they're all for you<3

Even as the pair of them slip out of the door of Niall’s flat there’s a sense of calm tinged with something that Niall can’t place, feels a tickling on his skin as he pulls the door closed behind them, reaching into his pocket for his keys to lock it up.

He delves his hands deep into his pockets, looking for the keys he knows are more than likely snagged in the bottom of the material, tugging the metal out and into his hand before he looks up and sees Louis’ key in the door.

His breath hitches in his throat as he sees the gleam of the key contrast with the tan of Louis’ skin, shining so brightly as he slides, twists and turns it in the lock before tucking it into his palm, cheeks littered with a small blush as Niall watches him.

“Ready?” Louis whispers after a little while, ducking his head under the force of Niall’s gaze and the blonde can do nothing but nod, biting at his lip as he starts trailing after Louis down the corridor before stepping down the stairs.

Louis’ footfalls are lighter than his own, his black Supras clunky and noisy against the wood of the stairs whilst Louis’ ratty Vans are gentle and barely there as they walk together.

There’s not really enough room for them to walk two abreast, but they do it anyway, wrists and arms getting hooked on the ends of handrails and caught in the railing as they go, but neither boy complains, their hands often brushing as they twist and turn in accordance with the stairwell.

It’s not normally a task that takes too long, walking up and down the stairs to his apartment, but it takes a little while now and it’s nice, the calmness and how relaxing it feels, as if they have nowhere they need to be, no need to rush.

They do however, sadly.  Louis’ due for his shift in just under half an hour and he’s got a good twenty minute walk ahead of him.  “I can come with you y’know, keep you company,”

Niall tries for nonchalance, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets before he pulls them out quickly, not liking the feel of containment on his hands.

“You’d be late for work,” Louis chuckles, turning his head to smile at Niall, lips tipped up in a quiet little smile.  “Plus I can walk on my own, I’ve learnt how to,”

Niall shakes his head amused by the brunette boy as they reach the bottom of the stairs, pushing at the door before he waves Louis out of the door first, grinning at the flustered look in Louis’ eyes.

“I know you can, just wondered if you wanted the company,” Niall kicks at an unsuspecting rock on the pavement, it flying off in front of them before he kicks it again, trying to keep it on the pavement so he can kick it over the paving stones again.

It lands with a quiet thunk; scattering across the pavement and just as Niall tips his foot out to kick at it again, it’s gone.

“Hey,” He whines, looking towards where Louis’ dribbling it between his feet effortlessly.  “Mine,”

Louis shakes his head playfully, playful gleam resonating in his eyes as he picks up speed, walking backwards with the stone between his feet, keeping it moving as Niall watches both impressed and not at all amused, _not at all_.

“Mine,” He clarifies, grinning wide like the Cheshire cat, teeth white and gleaming as the morning sun settles itself in the sky, beating through the clouds above to grace Louis’ face.

Niall pouts, picking up his speed to follow the older boy, kicking out his feet playfully to steal the stone from between Louis’ feet, but he can’t get it, just ends up kicking at empty air as Louis spins to the other side of the pavement, laughing at Niall’s whines.

“You want it, you come and get it!”  He chuckles, eyes squeezed into small crevices in their sockets as his smile extends across his face, tugging at his lips and his eyebrows raising to frame his face.

Niall watches after Louis for a little while, just admires the skills of his feet and how he twists his body round to match how the makeshift ball moves, keeping it where he wants it and away from Niall.

The blonde sets off after him, initially playfully as he grapples at the wool of Louis’ jumper, trying to knock him off balance childishly, but Louis’ having none of it, staying directly on his feet and barely losing step as he does so.

“It’s not fair on me if you’re, like, a master of football,” Niall frowns, still trying to get the stone away from the smaller boy with fruitless swipes of his feet, but nothing’s working.

Louis’ lips tone down into a sweet, shy smile that fits his face to a T, cheeks dancing with a tinge of red as he continues to dribble the rock, but not quite as competitively as he had been doing.  “I’m not a master,”

He shakes his head at Louis, knowing he’s something of a genius with it as he watches him dribble it between his feet, occasionally keeping it up in the air, and never letting it fall off of his shoes or hit the ground.  It’s both frustrating and brilliant, really.

Knowing Louis, if he argues his case he’ll just deny it, his cheeks flaming in a blush as he ducks his head, swatting at Niall to pack it in, that he’s not; when he is.  He so is.

Louis’ eyes glimmer in the early morning light and Niall spies twinges of gold in his orbs that he never knew inhabited his eyes, shows him a whole new aspect to them that he never knew about him.

He thinks that’s more or less what Louis is; a new dimension.  He’s something he’s never had before, never experienced or had the chance to.  He’s the new experience that Niall’s never had, the relationship he’s never had the chance to fall into.  He’s everything and more and he feels his heart hammer just at the mere thought of the things that Louis’ given him, whether he knows it or not.

The streets are empty around them, no one milling around and only occasional cars scattered along the road side as they take baby steps across the paving stones, occasionally getting their feet caught on raised edges and laughing embarrassed when they do.

It’s nice, whatever this is, whatever someone wants to label it as.  It’s nice just knowing that Louis’ there, whether he feels the same way as Niall or not.  He can’t put into words how much he hopes he does, though.

He doesn’t want to broach the subject yet, just presses his shoulder into Louis’ as they walk along, the pebble still dribbling between Louis’ feet as they do, a peaceful backing track to the final minutes of their company.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable earlier,” Niall says as they head closer and closer to his workplace, can see the big ass sign standing tall in the distance before you hit the car park, welcoming you to the store.

Their footfalls stay constant as they walk, neither boy making any attempt to slow down or speed up as they hit the car park.  “You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Louis says, keeping his eyes ahead, as though reading the sign that’s just a few metres in front of them.

“I did though, and I’m sorry,” Louis looks at him out of the corner of his eye before he turns his head towards Niall, mouth parted open as though he’s about to speak. “Even if you won’t accept my apology,” Niall rushes, smiling down at Louis when said boy’s eyes sparkle in their sockets as he shakes his head, amused.

“Get to work,” Louis shakes his head, pushing at Niall’s shoulder playfully before he turns on his heels, heading towards his own workplace.

Niall watches Louis go, lets him get to the end of the pavement where he’s about to cross the road before he runs after him, calling his name.

Louis’ head whips backwards confused, stepping back up onto the pavement just as Niall’s body collides with his. 

“Have a good day,” He whispers, lips pressed against the skin of Louis’ neck as he speaks before he pulls away slowly, realising what he’s just done and feeling his heart plummet into his little toe, unsure of himself suddenly.

“You have a good day too, yeah?” Louis presses his lips chastely against Niall’s own before he brushes a strand of hair off of Niall’s face, tucking it back in place and watching him with gentle eyes for a while before pushes Niall away softly.  “Now off to work, you’re gonna be late,”

Niall grins before pressing another kiss to Louis’ lips, feeling him freeze against him before he leans in and Niall’s away, heading to work, smile plastered to his face, a spring in his step and a fluttering in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was okay and if you have any comments or just want to let me know you're here, then please chat me up, yeah? I love talking to you guys:)
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own:)


	145. Chapter 145

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10,000 hits, Jesus. I genuinely don't know what to say other than thank you thank you thank you thank you!! I honestly never expected this story to turn into this, nor was I expecting this kind of response and it's lovely, so lovely. Wow. I love you all<3

Louis knows Niall wants answers, has seen it on his face for the past couple of days, plastered across his lips and painted into the blue of his eyes every time they meet or talk.  Even when they texts it’s hidden behind the black of the words on his screen.

It’s there, always there.

He knows it’s there and he wants to tell him, feels sick with how much he does, but he doesn’t.  He needs to figure it out for himself first, hence the reason he’s stood outside of the police station of which the details are scrawled down on a little post-it note on the table in his flat.

The building is large and the mortar between the bricks is starting to crack and crumble between them.  There’s a long crack running down from the little red post box that’s tacked on the wall outside up, up, up until it meets the big blue police sign that’s lit up with a glow that’s technically unnecessary for midday.

He curses at himself when he catches himself trying to get out of this, how he’s going off on completely random tangents with what he has to say and how he’s thinking, what he’s thinking about.

It doesn’t make him walk any closer though, just stands on the edge of the curb looking up at it instead, following the building up until his eyes meet the roof, occasional tiles misplaced and crooked in the straight lines of slate.

He’s one of those tiles, he thinks, a little bit crooked and a little bent and broken but still hanging on, not letting go.

He shakes his head at himself, clenching his hands into tight fists within his jacket pocket as he pushes one foot towards the centre of the pavement, letting his feet creep over the cracks between the tiles as he keeps his eyes straight forward, not allowing himself chance to look for an escape, a distraction.

The room he comes into is airy, with whitewashed walls and multiple posters and leaflets tacked onto pin boards and in stands on surfaces, the usual DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE and WATCH THAT BIKE displayed across their glossy surfaces.

Padded blue chairs are littered around them, some missing pieces of their material and exposing the sponge inside of them as they sit between little table that wobble as the air from outside blows in, knocking them off balance.

The building is warm inside, he notes with a smile, skin a little cool from being outside but the little radiator along the wall seems to pump out heat as he walks past it, warming him as he begins lifting his feet before dropping them, walking as well as he can.

As well as he can isn’t very well apparently as he sidles up towards the front desk, the man behind it already watching him with a soft look in his eyes and knowing wrinkles littering his face, as if he doesn’t even need to know what’s wrong, as if he’s already seen it before and things that are even worse, but Louis appreciates it anyway, how he keeps his face open and caring.

“I’m here to see Detective Thatcher,” Louis says, voice shaky as he digs his nails into his palms inside of his jacket, heart racing a mile a minute and his blood shooting through his veins at full pelt, making him nearly convulse with the force of it.

He feels a little bit sick, reaching his hand out to steady himself on the counter top in front of himself and he just nods his head when the police man asks if he’s okay, because he _is_ , he’s okay.

When he looks back up moments later, there’s two pairs of eyes on him and his heart stops dead in his chest when he looks into them, sees them again but he nods his head in a hello, squeaking out a verbal one also before the man is asking him if he’d like to go to an interview room or get a coffee, what would be most comfortable for him.

To be honest, Louis doesn’t know, has no idea what will make this a comfortable experience but he wants to do it anyway, needs to do it because once he has he can tell Niall, he can be honest with both him and himself; but mainly Niall.  He feels his cheeks burn, ducking his head to follow the older male instead.

The tiles under his feet squeak as he walks but he takes no notice, keeps his eyes on his shoes, watches how his feet stretch and contort them as he moves, sees the material continue to rip along the seams and he needs to throw them away, to get rid of them, but he can’t.

They’re almost glued to his feet, can’t take them off and he doesn’t know why, but it makes him feel a bit dizzy when he thinks of taking them off, of changing them and wearing something else, he can’t explain it, doesn’t know what it is that makes him feel like this, but something does and he doesn’t really like it.

Louis almost walks into the police officer’s back as they head down the corridor before he realises that they’ve stopped at a door and the man is tapping in a code before they’re through the door and there’s an expanse of desks and office chairs around them.

There are people milling around as Louis just watches from the doorway, the police officer – Detective Thatcher, Ben Thatcher, he reminds himself – walking straight through, but Louis doesn’t know what to do.

A woman at the desk closest to the door looks up to smile at his softly, her lips painted in a rose pink that lights up her eyes as she smiles.  The smile is gentle, like one a mother would give to her scared child but it helps regardless, gives him the confidence he needs.

He sticks his foot over the threshold, feels the change from tile to carpet under his battered shoes and takes tiny baby steps forwards, following after Detective Thatcher.

Everyone around him seems to be hard at work, staring at computer screens or writing on the large whiteboard at the back of the room so he just keeps walking, trying not to attract attention as he does so before he’s back behind Detective Thatcher and there’s yet another door in front of them.

“We can talk here, if you like?” Detective Thatcher says, turning to face Louis and it knocks the breath out of his lungs, seeing the face that had looked down up on him in his dreams doing the same thing again.

Louis nods, not knowing what else to say before he’s being ushered into the small room off at the side of the office with a kind smile from Ben.

He sit down with a smile but his stomach still feels a little queasy, especially when he sits down at the desk and sees the police diplomas and certificates on the wall opposite him above Ben’s head as he sits down, repositioning his tie against his shirt, the sleeves rolled up around his forearms.

It’s only then does he realise what he’s doing; he’s rebuilding his life by potentially wrecking someone else’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that was okay? I feel liked I've been gone ages but I know I haven't but I've missed this in the few days I haven't updated, it's like my baby<3
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	146. Chapter 146

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's been ages, I'm sorry<3
> 
> Anyway, my exams start on Tuesday (anyone want to come and do them for me instead? Please say yes!) so the next update will probably be either Friday or some time over the weekend. 
> 
> Hope you have a good week:)
> 
> Also, if you have any chapter title ideas let me know, maybe?<3

The weekend rolls around so fast that Zayn wakes up bleary eyed and confused, Harry’s laid across his chest, staring up at him with soft green eyes, face illuminated by the glow of the sun beaming in through the window opposite them.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” He says, voice tight and restricted with its disuse as he’d slept.  It tears up his throat as he speaks but he continues on regardless knowing how Harry likes to press his fingers to the column of his throat to feel it rattle up his neck, feel the vibrations under his skin.

Harry does disappoint either, pressing the tips of his fingers to Zayn’s Adam’s apple and following it as he swallows, fingertips tracing the lines of his soft skin, the scratch of Zayn’s scruff audible in the room. 

It’s nice, just the pair of them in the quiet room, Zayn thinks and maybe they should be at work - he doesn’t really know, hasn’t got his bearings on what day it is - but all he knows is that the planes of Harry’s skin are pressed impossibly close to his own and that’s more than enough to stop his mind from wandering anywhere else.

“It’s Saturday, Zee,” Harry says, eyes focused on the trail of his fingers over Zayn’s skin before they flick bright and bold and beautiful up to meet Zayn’s eyes.  “The day is our own.”

Zayn smiles at Harry, lifting his limp hand up off of the bottom sheet of the bed and wrapping it around Harry’s waist, trailing it up Harry’s back and dipping it into the dimples of Harry’s spine, feeling him keen into Zayn’s body at the contact.

The feel of Harry’s skin against his own makes his heart thrum in his chest as though it’s singing a happy song as it flutters away erratically. The effect that Harry has on him is mind blowing, something he never expected or dreamt of, only saw acted out in movies and presented on the big screen as something to aspire to, but he’s got it.

He’s experienced the doe eyes and the soft looks, the gentle laughs that are for him only and the smiles that only Harry’s allowed.  He’s felt the heavy weight of a loving stare, how it warms the skin and soothes the heart in a way that you never knew you needed, that you wanted. 

He’s felt the heat of the fire lick up the walls of his belly in jealousy as he’s seen Harry around other people, had to try and control the maddening rush of _mine, mine, mine_ when Harry’s wrapped around someone else instead.

He knows the way his skin melts under Harry’s touch, the glide of his fingers across the arches of his skin that leave him buzzing and on edge for something, anything, his blood pulsing hot and ferociously in his veins as it ignites his skin.

The words have slid off of his tongue with such ease but he feels an adrenaline rush every time to see how three little words can affect someone that he cares for, sees how they echo in Harry’s ears and bounce around in his head as he says them back, tongue curling deliciously over the words.

Zayn knows the sudden pitfall that comes in your stomach at the bad times, when you get that look and in a millisecond it’s all over, the end has been written and there’s no way to turn back the pages, scribble out the rush chicken scratch of heartless words and empty hatred and write out _I love you, don’t leave me_ instead.

He’s lived through the emptiness, how you’re ripped in two and can’t find your other piece even though you know where it is.  The way it feels so near yet so far, the fact that everything’s been ruined and trashed before it’s been allowed to grow into something spectacular, like binning flowers before they bloom.

The big screen was the thing to show him what love could be, how it could be dramatised and presented in such a far off way, as if it’s just a dream that can be performed by actors with cheesy scripts and plastic surgery.

Harry, however, was the one to show him it properly, to present it to him so openly and honestly that it felt real, that there was a chance that the movies had it all wrong, that there was no _proper_ way to do it, that grand gestures in front of crowds of millions was just a fantasy to make you want to be that person, just a way to sell their films.

Harry was the one to change that, he offered his heart on a silver platter, held it out in front of Zayn like it was something he could _trust_ him with, that he _wanted_ him to have it and it felt so foreign, the idea of it, of not having someone expect something in return.

He knew what love was supposed to feel like, thought he knew what attraction and liking someone actually was, but Harry doused all of his ideas in petrol and set them alight, burnt away the lies and instead lay truth in the ashes.

He’d changed everything, whether he knew it or not.  He’d been the one to show Zayn affection and love and care, he’d been the one that had wormed his way inside when Zayn didn’t even know there was space for anything - let alone anyone - inside of his heart anymore.

“I love you,” Zayn whispers, dragging the tips of his fingers over the satin of Harry’s skin, feeling the dips of his spine before his hands settle in the crook of his back, smile loving but unsure.  “Never forget that.”

Harry smiles softly up at him, all soft lines and easy features as he strokes his hand through Zayn’s hair, careful of the knots as he watches his face, leaning down to kiss his lips gently, wiping away any of the uncertainty that sat in Zayn’s body.

He tips his head to the side on the pillow under his head as Harry lays his head across his chest again, his exhales cooling his skin but leaving a fire in their wake.  The room is quiet around them save for the cars and people bustling around outside that’s noise is slipping into the sunlit room.

“You never shut the curtains, do you?” Zayn whines when the sun glares down across his face, warming his skin but painting splodges of colour behind his eyes when he opens them, blinding him.

He makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat as he tries to duck his head behind the mass of Harry’s curls but the Cheshire boy just bites at his chest playfully, hitting at his shoulder.  “I always forget!   Now stop moving, you’re ruining my sleep.”

Zayn snorts at that, wiggling all the more just to annoy the curly haired boy, grinning when Harry shuffles up his body and clings on, trying to stop himself from falling off.

“You’re such a poo,” Harry grumbles, pressing his face into Zayn’s chest, mouthing at it playfully before nibbling again and Zayn can’t help but laugh, trying to push Harry away.

“N’awh, Zee, don’t you like that?” Harry chuckles following Zayn when he tries to push himself away from him, crawling up his body so that he can run his teeth along Zayn’s pectoral again.

Zayn shuffles away indignantly, not wanting Harry to mark him right now because he’ll leave him hanging, he knows it.

“You’re such a tease,” He whines trying to flip himself over so that his chest is hidden but Harry’s having none of it, clinging like a koala bear to his chest and ending up thrown over with him, the pair of them laid on their sides, giggling at one another.

“Not a tease, you’re just impatient,” Harry smirks, wrapping his arms around Zayn’s torso to pull him closer so that they’re just holding one another, Harry’s head tucked into the crook of his neck.

Zayn has no argument for that when Harry’s curled up softly against his chest, the mattress dipping on his side under their combined weight but it’s nice, the feel of Harry’s mattress under his body once again.

He just smiles down at the green eyed boy, running his hands across his cheek before lowering his head to press a kiss to his cheek, settling under the duvet and just watching Harry as he watches him.

“It’s been so long since we’ve done this,” Harry whispers, reaching his pinky finger out to wrap it around Zayn’s, smiling when they curl around each other between their bodies.

Zayn nods, looking down at their entwined fingers softly, the past rolling over him in waves at the gesture but he doesn’t let it takeover, pushes it to the back of his mind instead as he lunges forward to press a steady, soothing kiss to Harry’s lips that leaves him breathless just with the unspoken words behind it.

“I love you, Hazza Bear”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	147. Chapter 147

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been ages since i last updated and I've missed you guys so bad:( I hope you're all okay though:)
> 
> Also, good luck to those of you doing exams and I hope they're going well so far:) Not too many more to go I hope! I'm still doing exams so I don't think there will be another update until next weekend:( But I hope this one is okay, maybe?
> 
> And just think the Where We Are tour is coming to the UK and it's going to be brilliant, so it's all going to be great<3 30th May is going to be amazing, eeeeekkkkkk!!

He ignores Niall’s text that night, watching his phone screen flicker on and off, telling him it’s there but not reacting, leaving it untouched and unread instead.

He’s been living in his head for the past three hours since he arrived home again, snuck himself into his flat and locked and bolted the door behind himself, hiding in baggy clothing and sitting crossed legged on the sofa, trying to keep his mind off of everything.

His skin feels too tight and too hot under the wool of his jumper, insanely sensitive, as if summer is just setting in and wiping the chill from the air, leaving him uncomfortable as his body tries to adjust to the sudden blaze of heat.

The sofa creaks underneath him as he tries to find a comfortable position but he just seems to be wiggling around on the cushions fruitlessly, the material scratching at his skin before he gives up, rolling down off of it and laying on the floor, the carpet fibres rough against his stubbled jaw instead.

The friction between his face and the floor makes his skin buzz, electricity shooting through his veins and dazzling his senses before the heat sets back in, sweeping over his flesh and setting itself deep under his skin, nuzzling in between his bones, into the marrow.

He watches the pictures from the TV spit light at his skin, his eyes burning in their sockets at the contrast between the bright light of the television and the darkness of the room, the curtains drawn tight across the window keeping the final speckles of day out of his flat.

The small area used to feel like home, just to mean something that nowhere else did, but now it just feels foreign, seems too big and too small all at once, doesn’t quite fit the way it used to as if it’s shrunk in the wash or been stretched out of shape, worn by someone else instead.  It just doesn’t feel quite right.

It itches under his skin, wiggles around unhelpfully in his mind as he tries to figure out what feel wrong, how his flat has changed in the space of the few hours he’s been away and locked it up and left it.

Everything’s in the same places that he left them, there’s nothing that’s moved that he can see, his eyes searching desperately round the flat in a hurry as he scooters around, mind buzzing and bumbling with questions that he can’t answer as his mind goes into overdrive.

The dirty washing is still in the hamper in his room, the clothes long since worn and the ones he’s just thrown off scattered over the floor of his bedroom.  The sheets are as messy as he left them, pillows flat with use and the sheets wrinkled, bottom sheet coming loose, a loose sock laid abandoned at the bottom of it.

His shoes are scattered around the flat, random shoes tucked in the most obscure of places, their matching other hidden somewhere else, thrown across the other side of the flat, but they’re all there.

All of his electronics are in place, his games and DVDs still in a huddle by the TV, controllers mixed in with them and multiple wires that have a home but no actual space still lay strewn across the scratchy carpet fibres in between them.

The kitchen sink’s still full of dirty cutlery and dishes, the cupboards bare bar the occasional mug or glass that’s pushed to the back that he can’t reach and can’t be bothered to try.  The bin’s still full of rubbish, beginning to tumble out of it and onto the kitchen floor, littering the space further and making the room smell worse than he cares to admit.

His hands shake with the need to do something, _anything_ when he lets his eyes land on his phone on the small kitchen table, fingers itching to pick it up.

The screen’s still bright and loud with the text that he knows is there but can’t let himself read, feels a tight clench in his chest at the fact he knows who’s waiting for his reply.

The outside air is a blast of ice on his body as he carries the bin bag of rubbish from his kitchen down the steps and outside to the dustbins, struggling to lift the lid of the industrial bin outside without dropping his bag to the floor.

Once it’s inside and out of his way, he can’t bring himself to go back up the stairs, back inside the mess and constricting area that is his flat and so instead just presses his hands to the wall beside the bin.

The bricks are cool underneath his heated palms, the grit and gravel of their texture drawing patterns into his skin that he can’t define but it feels good, regardless; the press of something against his skin, something keeping him in one place, as if containing him but still giving him the power to let go, to run away.

He curls his fingers into the mortar surrounding the bricks that’s bracketing them in place in a stable structure, feels the loose sand particles bury themselves under his nails as he leans his head to the wall.

Louis’ mind is full of thoughts, of things he can’t process, doesn’t understand but he lets them flow freely regardless, feeling too tired to push them away, to tease them from the strands of his brain and tuck them away, so just lets them go.

His brain feels heavy with everything inside, with every thought and feeling he lets flit through his mind and drift through his brain but he just lets them go, gives them free reign because he doesn’t know what else to do anymore.

Locking them in isn’t helping him; it’s just making his dreams come back harsher and more real the longer he keeps them tucked in the shadows of his mind, as if they don’t matter, like they’re not a part of him when they so obviously are.  They’re the biggest part of himself now, they define him in a way that nothing else quite manages. 

They’re the little snippets of his life that make him who he is, have shaped what he’s allowed to become.  They’re the bits of his life that have nibbled and gnawed away at him and teased him into something he’s not, made him up to be the picture of their minds instead of his own person.

He snorts out a frustrated laugh at himself for that, digging his fingers fruitlessly into the brick and mortar in front of himself as he looks down at his feet, the messed up material that sits over his feet like a second skin catching his eye.

He curls his toes inside of them, feels them rake over the broken soles of them, curling up the insoles inside before relaxing them again, tipping his feet up to kick them off.

They fly out behind him as he kicks his feet out in frustration, hears them hit the concrete behind him as he presses his hands harder against the wall. 

A sense of relief washes over his skin the moment his feet hit the cold, hard ground, can feel the grim of it under his feet, the loose edges of broken concrete digging into the soles of his feet as he huffs out laboured breaths.

The wall bounces them back against his face, blowing them back at him as his chest rises rapidly and out of rhythm, no melody to his breathing as he leans back against the wall, tipping his head up towards the sky, watching the remaining fragments of day drift off under the shine of the oncoming moon, a brisk wind fluttering through the air and blowing his hair across his forehead.

The sky is breathtaking above him as he keeps his eyes trained on the tie-dye of colours above as they’re washed from the sky, leaving a mess of mottled black and blue in their wake, pinpricks of stars stating to nibble through the skies velvety ribbons.

The light of London blasts out into the bottom of the sky, making the expanse seem greater, as if the city is breaking into the calmness of the night with its great white lights and bustling streets, trying to pull away the beauty of the night, to steal it away and remove it from existence, to live for every minute.

The idea may have appealed to Louis a while ago, the idea of owning the night, of making it your own instead of letting it rule you, but it doesn’t look quite as twinkly and shiny now as it did a few months ago, the idea making a chill run through his bones and pins prick at his skin instead.

Moonlight burns brightly in his eyes, lighting up the sky as he just breathes, takes in the breaths he’s not been able to  and lets them shimmy past his lips and out into the air, lets the stress ripple out of his skin and ignite in the early night sky.

His jumper feels massive on his body, as if he’s swimming in it but he’s never felt anything better, feels like it’s a protective shield against anything and everything that’s hiding out in the big bad world, the scent of it making his heart flutter in his chest as the loose fibres of it get attached to the wall behind his back.

The scent fills his nose quickly when he focuses on it, lets it twists itself into his nostrils and get acquainted with it, the clouds in his brain clearing when he matches it with the scent of Niall, of the warmth of his skin.

It’s hard to describe the scent, there’s no real key fragrance to it but it warms his heart anyway as he ducks his nose to the collar of it, runs his fingers over the large H and tucks his fingers into the too long cuffs of it.

Louis barely recognises that he’s walking but his feet are soon treading across the ground and he’s heading up the stairs to his apartment, toying with the temperamental lock and jiggling it to get it to open.

The kitchen tiles squeak under his feet, the soles of his feet damp with the muck from outside and leaving partial grubby footprints as he walks but he continues on anyway, toes curling as he reaches across the table and wraps his fingers around the cool silver of his phone.

The earlier need to ignore the messages that he knows are there bubble up in his stomach as he taps at the screen, thumbing in his code before he presses the enter button and demands access to his phone and it scares him just how happy he is to ignore the voice inside of his head that tells him to put his phone back down and leave it.

‘ _7up_ or _Sprite_? And can you actually tell the difference between them?  I can’t x’

He grins down at his phone like a lunatic, curling his toes subconsciously, just smiling at everything, the earlier hesitation long gone and dead in the pit of his stomach and instead his fingers twitch in anticipation, throwing his phone back down onto the table and pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes instead.

‘It’s the same drink in a different bottle, I swear!  But I like them both, I guess:)  Come round, maybe, if you’ve got time?’

‘I’ve always got time for you, Lou x’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments or criticisms or anything, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	148. Chapter 148

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise chapter attack!

It’s become a constant thing, really; one of them being at the other’s house instead of their own, tucked up in the heat of the other as they just sit, confident yet unsure around each other, not quite sure what they are to one another, but the secret smiles and subtle touches are enough to deem the questions ridiculous.

Niall slips into Louis’ flat not much later, carrying a box of pizza and a bottle of pop, a small smile on his lips and an apology in his eyes.  “I couldn’t get any _Sprite_ and I know how much you like it more than _7Up_ , I’m sorry.”

Louis smiles across the threshold of the flat at him, shaking his head as he reaches out for his wrist, wrapping his fingers around the soft flesh and tugging Niall into his flat, and it feels strange being the one to make the first move, but good strange.  This is good strange.

They settle into one another easily, Louis pressing a kiss to Niall’s cheek when he opens his mouth to apologise for what was said between them earlier, effectively shushing him as he lifts a piece of pizza to Niall’s lips, making him eat instead.

The evening is much like all of the others they’ve shared; Louis’ feet tucked under Niall’s thigh and their bodies touching at all times, Niall’s body turned towards Louis’ and his arm over the back of the sofa, hanging loosely as he shovels pizza into his mouth.

Louis grins at Niall when a piece of pepperoni falls from the blonde’s slice, landing on his shirt before Louis snatches at it, chewing on it with a smirk when Niall looks at him confused before it turns into amusement.

“That was mine!” He roars, eyes alight and bright in the darkness of Louis’ flat and his smile is childishly wide as he shifts himself around, settling on his knees as he leans over Louis.

Louis grins up at him, chewing slowly just for effect and watching the creases form around Niall’s eyes.  “You snooze, you lose.” He chuckles, licking at his fingers around a shit eating grin when the meat has gone.

Niall’s on him in an instant, prodding his fingers into Louis’ skin, tucking them up under his ribs as he tickles and declares war, ravishing him with his hands and leaving him breathless as he tries to fight Niall off of himself, laughter caught in his throat in breathy whispers.

His mouth is stretched into a wide smile, eyes crinkled in the corners and hiccups of laughter starting to form on his lips as he sucks in the breaths he needs to survive, Niall poised over his hips, continuing to tickle insistently at his body.

Niall’s actions begin to slow as tears of laughter form in Louis’ eyes, starting to trickle over his cheeks and into his hair, having shuffled down the sofa in a laid out position due to Niall’s actions. 

“Hey,” Niall whispers, smiling down on his face, shifting his hips so that his weight isn’t focused on Louis’ stomach as he reaches out a hand to brush a piece of straggly hair off of Louis’ face.

Niall’s movements are gentle and soft as he runs his fingertips over the curves and lines of Louis’ face, just watching with his tongue poking out between his lips, face open and adoring as he watches Louis from above.

His cheeks flush at the attention and Niall’s caress, tipping his head to the side to hide his blush and mutter his words into the flesh of his arm that Niall’s got pinned down lightly to the sofa cushions.

“What’s that, love?” Niall says, tipping Louis’ chin so that he’s looking up at him, nowhere to hide or escape from Niall’s hold or burning gaze.

Louis’ cheeks darken considerably as he looks up at Niall, sees the light hair that’s starting to litter his jaw and throat, sees it glint in the light the TV’s emitting, grinning up at the tiny freckles that are like a dot-to-dot across Niall’s skin.  “Need to get it cut,”

“I like it,” Niall says, voice far away and amused as he reaches down to twirl the strands between his fingers, playing with them like a small child would but it’s just so endearing watching Niall do it that he can’t think of ever cutting it and getting rid of future experiences of doing this.  “Makes you look very rugged,”

Louis’ eyes twinkle before he shuffles himself around on the sofa, shaking his head and biting back a smile at Niall’s choice of words, twisting his hands when Niall leaves his hair alone, remembering what it is he’d wanted to do before Niall’s hands had found his hair.

Niall’s hands go slack around his wrists as he attempts to lift his hands to Niall’s neck, running the tips of his fingers between the tiny brown dots on his skin, joining them up and trying to make them all fit together.

His skin is soft under Louis’ fingers, the slight tickle of hair under his fingers making him smile brightly up at the blonde boy as the marks fit perfectly under his digits, matching up perfectly. 

Niall’s breaths dance across Louis’ hand as he moves them over the dips and curves of his skin, running his hands down Niall’s neck before they start to trail over his collarbones, feeling the dips between them, trailing his fingers over the protrusions. 

“Why do you like me?” He whispers, breaking the peaceful silence that’s sat between them, seeing how his words make Niall’s features turn soft before they’re twisting with a hint of sadness.  He doesn’t even mean to say it, not really, anyway but he is curious, wants to know what’s keeping Niall around when nothing’s happened yet.

“Why wouldn’t I like you, Lou?” Niall asks.   “You’re brilliant; more than brilliant,” Niall whispers, shuffling himself down off of Louis to lie next to him on the sofa, shuffling onto the edge of the sofa so that Louis’ pressed against the back and not falling off.  It’s a tight fit with the pair of them laid across it, but it’s nice, the feel of Niall’s skin against Louis’, the press of his ribs against Louis’, the stab of Niall’s elbow under Louis’ chest.

Louis makes a noncommittal noise at that, resting his head on the sofa space between their bodies and looking up at Niall curiously.  “Even after everything?”  He doesn’t really need to specify what he’s talking about, knows that Niall understands what it is he’s asking so he just leaves it at that but it doesn’t make Niall’s mouth twist in anything other than a sad line.

“Even after everything,” Niall agrees, looking down at Louis with certainty in his eyes and a hard set to his mouth.  “That wouldn’t change anything, wouldn’t be able to change you for me, Lou, ever.”

Louis smiles softly, blinking slowly when he feels the sleepiness settle in his bones, feels Niall shift next to him, tucking his arm under Louis’ head for him to use as a pillow as he tells him to sleep, running his fingers over Louis’ spine and drumming those melodies that have kept him smiling for days into his skin until they’re the backdrop to his dreams and blonde and blue are the pictures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Also if you have any ideas for chapter titles, as always, please let me know those to! Don't be Silent Readers<3


	149. Chapter 149

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the holidays, finally! Updates should hopefully be a bit more frequent this week:) 
> 
> Also, is anyone going on the WWA tour on the 30th May at Manchester, it would be lovely to see you guys and just know that the crowd won't just be full of people I don't know:)

There’s the tack of cheese and grease between his fingers and stuck in his pores as he wakes up, his body feeling numb as he wriggles his way back into consciousness, the sleep clinging to his bones like the final ebbs of winter do to spring.

There’s a crick in his neck that makes his body tense up immediately and not move, knows it will hurt when he does, so he doesn’t, saves the pain for later and settles into the sofa more instead.  The pillows move with him as he twists his body around on the sofa, can feel himself slipping off of the edge of it before he catches onto the fact he’s not alone.

Louis’ hair is ruffled against his chest, the strands static as they rub against Niall’s shirt and it’s nice, seeing Louis like this, ruffled with sleep and pieces of his long hair across his forehead and dipping over his closed eyes.

His skin is warm and soft to the touch as Niall runs his hand over Louis’ back, feels the bumps of his spine like there’s nothing else in the world that’s worth searching for, remembers the dips and dives of each and every crevice, etches them into his mind like a mantra he needs to survive.

The TV’s still on across the other side of the room, the screen black but still alive with pixels that tinge the room in a dreary glow, the early morning sun starting to batter its way in through the curtains opposite.

They’re drawn right across and only pools of light are spreading from the bottom of the curtains like beams of torch light screaming from the end of the device and beckoning down on the darkness around.

The room is still as Niall tries to fix his position, keeps his hands tightly around Louis’ waists as he shifts to sit up better and cease the pain in his neck.  Louis’ body folds into his own as he moves, as if trying to get closer, impossibly nearer to him and Niall’s heart flutters with it, the feel of Louis trying to sneak inside.

Niall tucks his hands in the stretched hem of Louis’ shirt, feels the way it’s too big for his body and it feels far too much like they’re going backwards again.

He’s seen how Louis’ changed since they met, how he’s gradually smiled more, grinned harder and shook less, his eyes no longer darting around when they’re out and about, instead staying set on his path and just walking like there’s nothing to fear around the corner.

He knows why it’s changed, however, and he hates himself for it, can see it in Louis’ eyes each and every time their eyes meet, whether it’s a fleeting glance or one of the long stares that they fall into sometimes that leaves each of them blushing profusely; it’s still there.

It has been since Niall found him, and his stomach bottoms out and his heart sinks at the memory of it all, of having to see that and the brokenness of the first person he’s ever felt anything more than initial attraction to.

He swallows quickly, tries to settle himself as he strokes his fingers through Louis’ hair, feels the straggly ends run through his fingers as he does so and it’s lovely, just having Louis here, knowing he’s here and alive, and that’s when the emotions come a little too strong.

He’s known they’ve been coming for a while, had kept them pent up for Louis, to try to protect and help him and stop him from seeing what this has done to him, but he can’t.  The rush of emotions is too much and he feels the tears brewing on the edges of his lashes, sitting on the edges of his eyes as he blinks them back, tips his head against the back of the sofa and bites at his lip to try to keep them at bay.

His breathing is laboured and a single tear slithers down his cheeks when Louis’ mouth runs over the crook of his elbow, the feel of it like heaven on his skin because Louis is there, he’s _there_ and he’s _not_ _left_ and he’s _safe_ and _alive_ and Niall’s.

The relief washes over him in huge, massive waves that knock the air straight out of his lungs and leaves him gasping for air as he feels the hot trickle of tears scorch over his cheeks and sidle down his face before being absorbed by his shirt.

It’s a bit too much, Louis’ sleeping body sprawled out over him and his heart in his mouth as he tries to calm himself down and be strong for Louis when he needs it, when it doesn’t matter about him, when it’s only Louis that matters anymore.

Louis’ taken over his life, he realises then, sees how different it is to want to put Louis before himself in a way he’s never previously done for anyone.  Sure, his mother taught him to hold doors open for girls and let them go first, let old people have his seat on public transport and never treat his friends like they’ll always come running back no matter what shit you say to them, but this is different.

He can feel it each and every time he looks at Louis, sees the sparkle in his blue orbs and it shocks him to know how he hasn’t understood it before, how it’s such a surprise to find out that he might actually, maybe, potentially, possibly love him.

Louis’ fingers curl in his sleep as Niall rolls himself out from under the smaller boy, watches him with an eye of affection and admiration as he turns on his heels in the room, walking to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water and to try to breath properly once he’s escaped the heart warming boy that is Louis.

He cracks the window open once he’s in the kitchen, glass of cold water in his hand and the tap drip-dripping rhythmically in the small room as he leans back against the chipped worktop opposite the table.

His mind is running with images, thoughts, feelings and memories of everything, nothing ceasing to move as it sprints through his mind, leaving him empty and dizzy as he rocks from side to side.

He knows his have feet gone out from under him before he hits the chair that’s pulled out at the table, more or less falls onto it and sprawls across the table top, letters and paperwork crinkling under his weight and flying off of the messy tabletop as he crumples unwillingly into it.

It takes a few minutes for the whirring in his head to dissipate and escape his body, evacuating through his pores and he does so until he’s able to sit upright in the chair and take a slow, calculated mouthful of water.

The liquid is cold against the backs of his teeth as he swirls it around his mouth as he leans down to pick up the dishevelled letters, setting them into a clumsy pile on the tabletop as he collects each one until the breath is knocked from his lungs and there’s nothing keeping his heart beating or his chest from concaving, his body falling off of his chair and hitting the floor with a thump that he knows is there but didn’t hear at all, feels the rattle of it ricochet through his bones but he’s not able to process it anymore, doesn’t know what to do with himself when he sees the marks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know and any chapter title ideas would be lovely, they're looking a bit bare right now:(
> 
> Don't be Silent Readers<3


	150. Chapter 150

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you know, this chapter is a bit graphic (I don't really know, I'm not sure if it is or not really so tell me if it is or not please? Gore doesn't really affect me, but I just thought this would be a safe warning, if you need it:) )
> 
> Hope you enjoy:)

It’s a pretty sick thing, really, how this is the first time he learns Louis’ full name.  Louis William Tomlinson; it rolls off of his tongue beautifully, like the tune of a songbird but the rest of the words are like bullets through his tongue and bombs on his lips.

They’re all there, numbered, _categorised_ like they’re items in a catalogue, and it makes his stomach convulse and twinge painfully.

Each and everyone is photographed, plastered to the sheets of paper and labelled with dimensions and whatever the fuck else you can label bruises and cuts and scratches and grazes and slashes as. 

They’re all there, each and every type of injury that can come to mind, each and every variation of them stabbed deep into the fibres of the paper, but not just one sheet, or even two; there’s six.

Six sheets of marks and invisible pains that scattered Louis’ body, littering it and mottling each and every plane of tan skin, and marking it up in black and blue, splattering it in bloody crimson and sore-rubbed red.

There are gorges in his body, the pictures seeming to bring them to life and let Niall see just how deep the nail marks and cuts go, how the skin has split around them and let them push inside, unable to do anything to stop it, just healing up slowly afterwards; doing the only thing it can do.

His fingers shake as he lifts the top sheet away and the list of injuries lengthens, this time documenting the scratching to Louis’ hands and Niall can see the grit in some of the wounds, can feel how bad it must have been for Louis as he had to pick out each and every little stone, pull them from his broken skin.

His fingernails are bloodied, the ends jagged and pushed down to the nail beds and there’s a little side note that says _not done by attacker, occurred when victim tried to hold himself up_.  Niall’s jaw clenches, trying not to spit in frustration at the words; not done by the attacker!  Yeah, he just did that because he wasn’t being raped and needed something to do, definitely didn’t do it because it was all he could do to stop his attacker from doing even _worse_ things to him. 

He chokes back tears, tipping his head back to try and stifle his emotions before he looks back at the sheet again.

 There are cuts across his fingers also, little cuts down the knuckles that must have hurt like hell when Louis tried to flex and bend his fingers, the skin pulling taut over the bones as he tried to move, shooting fire down his veins and forcing curses from between his lips.

There’s a lone picture of Louis’ lips on the page also, a cut dancing down the left hand side of his lip that looks like it’s been cleaned up somewhat but still blossoming up and making the left hand side of his mouth bulge.

His body is sore and torn apart in each of the pictures as Niall flips through the pages, watching the images pass by his eyes with his fists clenched and his heart sinking faster and harder in his chest.

He sees them all, the images burned into his mind; Louis’ hips bruised and battered with finger shaped marks and the crevices from nails gouged into the flesh, his arms scratched to buggery, the skin torn and pulled to shreds in the images, he turns the page and can’t go any further.

It feels wrong looking at the more graphic images and the tears are in his eyes and running down his cheeks before he can stop them and drop the papers to the floor.  They fly out around him instead as he crawls over the kitchen floor to the bottom cabinets, rests his head back against them and tries to fix his breathing, knowing that Louis’ still asleep just mere metres away in the other room.

His tongue feels too big for him mouth and his lungs too small for the amount of air his body needs as he lets the tears flow down his face, biting into his shirt to keep his sobs at bay and make sure that Louis stays asleep for as long as possible; he looked shattered the night before.

The tears are hot and sticky against his cheeks as they run down his face but Louis’ floor is cool against his bum and hands, not knowing what to do with himself as he tucks himself up into a ball and tries to sort through everything.

It’s a bit too much for his mind to deal with as he kicks the images of Louis’ broken body away from his mind, pushes them into the shadows until he can breathe well enough to try to answer the questions he has and just lets himself lean back against the cabinet, the sun trickling in slowly through the kitchen window, bright and hot against his face.

The streams of it blast through his eyelids like they’re not even trying and he sucks in a long, hard breath, wipes at his eyes and just watches the sun rise up slowly in the sky before he can’t do it anymore and he pushes himself up off of the floor to pick up the letters, his eyes closed as he handles the images and puts them back onto the table in a neat pile.

They burn his hands as he handles them, the pinch of the images tightening around his heart as he swallows the sobs he wants to voice, knows that he’s too close to Louis to do that, that it’s nowhere near time for him to wake up yet and that he deserves to sleep; he deserves everything really, Niall thinks, all of the best things in life should be Louis’.

He instead pushes the chair he earlier had been sat in under the table and heads across the flat back into the living room, dipping his head down to press a soft kiss to Louis’ temple, feels the heat of Louis’ skin under his lips and smiles, whispering to him so softly that even he, himself, can hardly hear it before he’s out of the door and walking away, the heavy weight of tears stinging at the backs of his eyes as he runs down the stairs and out onto the pavement before he lets them flow freely, the wind blowing them off of his face before he can wipe them away.

“I’m so sorry, Louis, so sorry; I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was it gore-y or not? Let me know please?
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	151. Chapter 151

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys have any ideas for chapter titles, please let me know, they're looking a little bit bare recently and that's only a good thing if it's a member of One Direction;)

Niall’s not there when Louis wakes up and it makes something twist inside of him knowing that the blonde boy has left.  His jacket is still there though, thrown over the back of the sofa and tickling the back of Louis’ neck as he shifts on the sofa before forcing himself to get up, knowing he’ll be late for work if he doesn’t.

He does as he normally does, getting himself showered and dressed for work before he heads out the door, checking his phone as he goes.  There’s a message from Harry asking if he wants to go out that weekend but no texts from Niall though and it feels wrong, somehow, not having him on his mind constantly; he misses it.

Work isn’t too bad that day, he gets roped into stacking the shelves with Perrie, his work colleague, because it’s a slow day and there’s not much else for him to do on the shop floor, but it’s nice.

It makes a change to how his days normally go and he enjoys it quite a bit.  He’s previously barely spoken to the peppy blonde, always been on separate departments as she works in the girls toys section and himself the boys section, so it’s nice to get to know her.

She’s happy and smiley the whole day and her eyes pop each time her face lights up with a grin and it’s just a nice atmosphere to be in, it takes his mind off of Niall, or rather the lack of.

Up until today he’d never spoken to her really, but now he can’t think of not speaking to her.  She’s fun to be around and it rubs off on him, makes him smile too, makes him open up and let her in when he’d not even really done that to people in his own department but she just seems to pull him in, make him want to talk.

They’ve spoken of pretty much everything in the few hours that they’ve been in each other’s proximity; they’ve spoken about themselves, their friends and families, their pasts, what they want in their futures and how they each ended up in London.  Pretty much everything that he’s not told Niall, really, and it stings how he’s not opened up like that to the blonde, how he’s closer to a person he met just three hours before than he is someone he met months ago.

He can feel her eyes on him a he chews his lip, frustrated with himself as he thinks about Niall and how much he wants to tell him but hasn’t, all of the things he’s kept to himself, but she doesn’t call him out on it, just smiles like his mother would at him before squeezing his shoulder and getting back to work.

They’ve nearly finished stacking the new range of Barbie dolls on the shelves and Louis’ sure that they never used to look quite as...ill proportioned as they do now.  He swears the ones that Lottie and the rest of his sisters used to play with looked somewhat _normal_ , now however, they’re all big chests and small waists with unnaturally long legs and short skirts.  It’s a bit strange to see and he tells Perrie this.

“I know what you mean,” She nods as she stacks one of the boxes onto the bottom shelf.  “They do look a bit funny, don’t they?”  She laughs a little and it makes him smile too as she handles one of the boxes, turning it in her hands and pulling faces at it before stacking it without another word.

They chat a little while longer until the boxes are all on the shelves and the clock signifies that it’s lunch time.  “I’ve got my break now,” Perrie says as she pushes the cart with the empty packaging away into the back room of the building.

“Me too,” Louis smiles, poking at his name badge to make it central on his shirt; it still looks lopsided however. 

“Yeah?  I was going to go to that sandwich shop down the road, if you want to come with,” Her voice is soft, as if she doesn’t mind if he refuses, but for the first time in a long time he feels confident enough to accept, following her out of the store as they walk and talk down to the shop in question.

 The sandwich shop is nice, all bright with floor to ceiling windows and white walls, pieces of modern art making the place feel comfortable and inviting as they step inside, the lights warm and homely above them.  They settle into a small booth near one of said windows once they’ve ordered their food and their drinks are misting up the windows.

The shop isn’t empty but it’s also not at all busy, a few people littering the chairs and sofas in the room and there’s the comforting background buzz of people talking as Perrie goes to speak.  “I can’t believe I’ve never spoken to you until today,” She comments, picking pieces of crust off of her sandwich and eating them bit by bit.  “It feels like I’ve known you for ages, not a couple of hours.”

Louis smiles, stirring a dab of milk into with spoons in his tea; their watery tea tastes nothing like Niall’s tea and he wants to scream with how he compares everything to the blonde now.  He grits his teeth instead, chewing the inside of his cheek instead and he can feel Perrie watching him, but he doesn’t feel judged at all.

“I know,” He says, feeling the weight of Perrie’s gaze on him, but it’s not uncomfortable and feels good as it bears down on his shoulders.  “It’s weird just how we still wouldn’t know each other if it wasn’t for your colleague not being here.”

Perrie nods before flicking her attention to her food and picking up her sandwich with a finesse that Louis can’t manage, the contents of his sandwich falling out when he tries; he chooses to rip it down the middle to make it easier for himself and do it that way instead.

Their conversation is light and held between chews of food, Perrie apologising profusely when she speaks with her mouth full but Louis just tells her _it’s fine, he’s a boy, he’s seen worse than that_.

Her eyes sparkle a little before she ducks her head, knocking her hand against his on the tabletop.  “You’re really lovely, Lou,” She smiles, lips stretched around her pearly white teeth.  “I’m really glad that I got to know you.”

Her words knock him back a bit, leave him stumped because it’s only then that he realises that he’s glad too.  “I’m glad I got to know you too,” He says and he means it, he’s glad he met her and let himself get this close to someone again; it feels like progress.  “You’re lovely too,”

She blushes at his comment, pushing at his wrist before kicking her legs out in front of herself.  “We’d probably better be getting back,” She sighs as he pulls her phone from her jacket pocket and it’s then that he thinks of Niall again.

He’s managed to push thoughts of the blonde away the moment that they arise since this morning, but now he’s back and pushing through the barricades Louis has subconsciously set up and he’s right there in the front of his mind, standing pretty and blonde in the centre of Louis’ brain and his phone just feels like it’s burning his skin with how stagnant it is, how there’s no texts from Niall.  Something feels wrong but he doesn’t know what and he doesn’t like it.

“Lou?” Perrie says, pushing her chair back against the tiles underneath herself before she reaches out to tap and manicured finger against his wrist, startling him out of his thoughts of blonde and blue.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m coming; sorry,” She grins at him as he collects up her rubbish, carrying it over to the bin and placing her mug back on the counter for the waitresses.

“Doesn’t matter,” She flicks a hand out for his mug also and he quickly hands it over to her, looking down at his feet and curling his hands into fists in his jacket pocket to keep them away from his phone in his jean pocket.  “Let’s just head back, yeah?”

The air is a little cooler as they head through it, but it’s a comforting chill against his skin as he walks, hears Perrie’s shoes click minutely against the pavement as they do.  She doesn’t try to make small talk and Louis really appreciates it, she must know that there’s something bothering him but she doesn’t pester him for it, just turns to him before they walk back into the building, blocking his path. 

“If you want someone to talk to, I’m here, yeah, if you want me,”  She looks him in the eye and he wants to protest, to tell her that _it’s fine, that there’s nothing wrong_ but her eyes are knowing and he knows he’ll just dig himself down into a deep, deep hole if he tries.  “You’ve just got to ask me and I’ll be there no matter what, okay?  Just let me know and I’m there.”

He nods slowly, tipping his head at her and she smiles daintily at him, runs her hand over his jacket clad arm and smiles knowingly, like she’s been through what he’s going through and it feels strange, having someone know what he’s going through without him talking about it, but he appreciates it all the same, doesn’t feel like he’s alone in it anymore.

“Thanks, Perrie,” She shakes her hand in his face in a nonchalant gesture before she’s tugging him into the building and stabbing his name tag onto his shirt and taking his jacket, telling him to work whilst she goes and hangs their coats up and it’s strange and unfamiliar but lovely all the same, having someone in his life to fill the void he didn’t realise was there.

But her presence reminds him of how the Niall shaped hole in his chest is growing, he just doesn’t know why because Niall had fit there perfectly just hours earlier and he doesn’t know what’s changed.

‘Your jacket’s at mine, would you like me to drop it off after work? x’

He doesn’t get a reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	152. Chapter 152

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 days to go, oh my god.

It’s the final few minutes of the shift that day and Liam’s skin feels tight around his bones as he serves the last couple of customers.  It’s not unusual, the feeling of feeling trapped in his skin, but today has just dragged so bad and he’s tired and he just wants to fall into bed and sleep for the rest of his life.

Alex, to an extent, seems to get this and keeps smiling softly at him as they work around each other, squeezing his waist when they pass one another, pressing his fingers into the dimples in Liam’s back like he knows he likes, but it doesn’t really help.

He still feels sluggish as he moves; each and every movement lazy and tired as he prepares drinks and talks to his customers.  They seem to spot his lack of enthusiasm also as they don’t make small talk like usual and just pay for their drinks and leave to sit at one of the tables or head outside instead.

He feels bad for himself and for his customers when they leave and just offer him a _good night_ or _have a good weekend_ before leaving but he can’t manage to think about it, his brain fizzling up to nothing the longer he keeps his eyes open.

The very last customer of the day makes him smile, a little girl dressed in her school uniform with a gappy smile, her mother’s hand trapped around her own.  She just looks at him a while from over the other side of the counter, her fingertips curled over the lip of it so that she can just see over it; she’s on her tiptoes, he can tell with how she wobbles as she moves.

Her mother makes her choice of drink and looks down at her daughter, running a hand over her child’s head and playing with her ponytail, twisting it loosely around her own wrist.  “Amy, would you like a drink?” The girl in question nods and her mother pushes on.  “Well, tell the gentleman what you’d like then,”

Her eyes are huge and brown as he looks up at him and it reminds him of Zayn a little bit, how he’d been all of those years before when himself and Niall had gotten to know the dark haired boy, with her eyes blown wide and unknowing.

“Can I have juice, please?” Her voice is small but he catches it, leaning down on his forearms on the counter to look down at her with a smile.

“You can, now what type would you like?  We’ve got orange, grape, blackcurrant or pineapple.” He waits with a grin on his lips as her eyes widen further, as if blown away by the level of choice but it makes him feel warm inside, watching her mull over her choices.

Her hair is a bit messy on her head, strands loose from her ponytail and flying all over the place but she looks adorable, regardless.  “Can I have orange, please?”  He nods, eyeing her mother to check that the little girl’s choice is fine by her but she’s not watching so he makes it anyway; it’s what she wants.

Alex is leant against the counter across from him as he makes the little girl’s drink and he smiles wide at Liam with his eyes crinkled in the corner and his left hand curled up in a thumbs up that makes Liam’s smile grow; he’s such a dork.

“Here you go and your tea, that’ll be £3.60, please?” The little girl coos at her drink, playing with the straw that Liam put in and the little umbrella that technically shouldn’t be there - but he remembers being a child once and finding the devices brilliant, still does really - whilst her mother pays but she stays watching him for a while, just looking at him before she takes a sip of her drink and it confuses Liam a bit.

She continues to watch him for a while longer, her eyes peeping over the countertop at him as he wipes it down and he smiles at her, unsure for as to what she wants.  “Amy?”

The little girls head whips around to her mother that’s settled into one of the booths near the windows, the older woman watching Liam and her daughter, confused, before Amy tips her head back around and smiles up at Liam once again.  “Thank you for my drink, Leeyum,”

He cocks his head to the side, confused for as to how she found out his name but she seems to understand this, reaching out her pale finger towards his chest to where his name tag sits against his polo and it clicks then.

“You’re welcome,” He smiles, reaching into the little tub beside the till that’s filled with pre-packaged biscuits, designed for going with cups of tea and hands one down to her with a smile.  “Shh, don’t tell my boss,”

She laughs at him, bright and jolly and childish with a glee that he misses hearing in his life but he didn’t know was missing.  He’s always liked kids, always wanted some of his own, but this is different, somehow, the innocence of the noise reminding him just how old her really is now that he can’t sound like that. 

“I won’t,” She presses her dainty finger to her lips and makes a shushing noise with her mouth that makes Liam laugh, dragging him out of his adult thoughts instantly.  “Thank you, Leeyum,” She tries to unwrap the little packet and it makes Liam’s heart swell with how she pokes her tongue out to open it but she eventually gets it open and skips away happily.

He turns to start wiping down the countertop again once she’s gone before he hears the slide of shoes on metal and the compression of the leather seats at the counter but when he looks over his shoulder he doesn’t see the customer he was expecting and in fact is met with the smile of an unsure child.

“Would you like a biscuit?” She asks, holding out the other biscuit from her pack at Liam in her small, stubby hand.  It’s endearing, the way she nibbles on her own softly but manages to keep eye contact with Liam, wiggling the other biscuit towards him as if to try to entice him further.

“Nah, you eat it, that’s what I gave you it for,” He tries to say, cocking his head to the side and leaning against the counter opposite her, pushing her drink towards her.

She’s quiet for a while as she studies his face and he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself under her gaze, it as if she knows something he doesn’t.  “But I want you to have it, Leeyum,” She wiggles it again, crumbs falling off of it and landing on the countertop.  “I want you to eat it, that’s what I gave you it for.”

Alex snorts at him from the opposite end of the counter, ducking his head when Liam glares over at him but Liam knows that if the roles were reversed he’d be laughing at how the little girl had twisted the words to fit what she wants. 

“You sure?” She nods quickly, lifting her biscuit up to her lips and chewing it carefully as Liam does the same, smiling despite himself at the little girl and her personality in general.

Her mother is watching them with a fond smile on her face as the little girl swings her legs out in front of her from her space at the counter and she smiles happily at Liam from around her cup of tea.

Once there’s nothing left of his biscuit and Amy has also eaten hers he pokes at her drink with his fingertip, pushing it towards her.  “Thank you very much for the biscuit, it was very nice,”

“It wasn’t _nice_ , it was _yummy_!”  She exclaims, throwing her hands up exaggeratedly and smiling like there’s nothing bad in the world, like everything is brilliant beyond words.  “Thank you for the biscuit too, Leeyum.”

She waves at him when her mother comes towards them, her empty cup in her hand before he places it on the counter with a smile, thanking Liam for what he did but he just shrugs it off; he didn’t do anything, not really anyway. 

She thanks him again regardless before holding onto her daughter’s hand and walking them both back out onto the street, Amy waving at him enthusiastically through the window until he can’t see her through the mass of people.

Her cup of juice is nearly empty and he smiles as he picks it up, looking up at the clock on the wall over his head and spotting that it’s time to leave and his body nearly sags in relief, at the fact he’s so close to his bed now.

“Hey, there,” Alex chuckles, hooking his head over Liam’s shoulder and kissing at his neck, all soft and slow like there’s all the time in the world once he’s slipped the closed sign over the front door.  “You feel better now?”

Liam makes a sound in the back of his throat, tipping his head back against Alex’s taller frame and letting himself be wrapped up in Alex’s strong arms.  It’s a great place to be, here in Alex’s arms with the heat of his skin and the beat of his heart dancing across Liam’s skin.  “Still tired,”

“Yeah?” Liam nods his head, running his fingers over Alex’s skin slowly as he closes his eyes, feels relief flood his body at the fact it’s time to go home and that his bed is one step closer to him.  “You wanna come round to mine and sleep it off?”

Liam’s heart hammers in his chest the moment the words register in his mind; he’s never been to Alex’s house before, they’ve only ever been to Liam’s and that hasn’t been very often, well, not as often as Liam would like it to be anyway.  It leaves him frozen as all of his thoughts run through his mind and he tries to find an answer that won’t make him sound like a teenage girl.

“I mean, it’s closer than your place,” Alex says, as if he thinks he’s said the wrong thing and is trying to backtrack; Liam doesn’t want him to backtrack and feels bad for making him wait for an answer, but he just doesn’t quite know what to do.  “You don’t have to though.”

“I want to,” Liam says quickly, tipping his head up to press a kiss just under Alex’s ear, the skin soft against his lips.  He feels Alex relax around him as he says the words and it makes his heart hammer with how Alex’s smile plays out on his face as he presses a soft kiss to Liam’s temple.  “If you want me.”

“Always want you,” Alex whispers, holding him closer still and pressing a kiss to Liam’s scalp, movements slow and steady but grounding as he runs his fingers over Liam’s sides. 

“I always want you too,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments or criticisms, throw them my way:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	153. Chapter 153

Thoughts are rattling around in his brain at a crazy speed, knocking about inside of his skull and creating a complete and utter mess within him as he walks down the pavement. 

His shoes slap against the floor harder than he can even begin to question as he heads down the street, strides fast, his head ducked and teardrops falling down his cheeks before splattering between his feet as he walks.  He must look a state, really.

His tears dry rapidly against his cheeks thanks to the wind as he walks and it’s a long way to work but he couldn’t care less, especially when he runs inside, narrowly missing crashing into Jade as she walks out the front door.

She calls after him but he can’t register that when black and blue are so prominently burned into his mind, scorching every other thought he has and leaving it as a pile of saddened ashes.  The way it had trailed over Louis’ frame like a kind of _disease_ makes his stomach convulse and his chest tighten, a single sob slipping through his lips as he pulls off his shirt and throws on his work shirt.

It’s crinkled and wrinkled and he knows that his boss is going to pick up on it, call him out on it but he can’t function or think about that, just pinches his fingers around the teeny tiny buttons and tries to force them through the holes.

He growls when he can’t get it to work and his fingers just ache with the force of the buttons pushing on them before his tears come just a little bit heavier down his cheeks and his ears flush with a burning sensation he can’t put a name to. 

He’s frustrated with himself and the buttons and the pictures and Louis’ attacker and Louis for not telling him and the Police for numbering and labelling and categorising Louis’ injuries.  He’s upset by each and every one of those things and he can feel his blood boiling under his skin and he just wants to rip it all off, to feel the air on his bones alone and he wants to _cry_.

“Niall, darling, are you okay?” He knew she’d followed him but didn’t know she’d be tucking her body through the door of the men’s toilets and coming over to him by the sink.  Her eyes are concerned as he reaches out a steadying hand and presses it between his shoulders, her face worried as he spies it in the grubby surface of the mirror in front of them.  “Niall?”

He looks up at her in the mirror and he can see her sudden intake of breath as their eyes meet in the mirror and he _hates_ it and so ducks his head instead, tries to shy away from her shock and sadness and sympathy; it’s not him that needs it, the person that does he’s left abandoned on his sofa, fast asleep.  He wants to scream.

His eyes are red, he can see that as he lifts his eyes to look at her and there are little globes of tears clinging to his lashes and he’s really just sadness personified, isn’t he?  So it’s a bit shocking to feel her hand wrap around his waist as she presses her face between his shoulder blades, telling him it will all be fine.

She’s got no idea what’s wrong but she still _knows_ it will be fine and it frustrates him a little bit how she does that, as if she knows what’s good and bad before she even understands.  He huffs at himself for slagging her off in his mind; it’s not as if it’s her fault, she’s just trying to calm him down.

He looks back up to her when she runs her hand over his arm, her nails scratching slightly against his arms and he wonders if this is how it felt for Louis at the start, sharp points of nails dragging over skin before they dug a little deeper, a little harder.  He swallows quickly to stop the noise that wants to exit his mouth at the mere thought, clenching his eyes shut quickly to keep away the images that want to sit behind his eyelids.

They seem to stand like that for a while, Niall just trying to suck in breaths whilst Jade keeps whispering against his back, her words muffled by his shirt but they help regardless, just knowing he’s not alone; Louis was alone.

_It’s fine.  
_ **Louis isn’t fine.**

_It’ll all be fine, you’ll see.  
_ **Louis isn’t fine.**

_You don’t need to cry, babe_ **.  
Louis isn’t fine, I need to cry for that.**

_You don’t deserve this.  
_ **Louis didn’t deserve it.**

_C’mon, babe, dry your eyes and smile at me again; you’ve got such a lovely smile.  
_ **Louis has a lovely smile.**

_Nothing is so badly broken that it can’t ever be fixed.  
_ **I think Louis is broken, I _need_ to fix him.**

He turns slowly in her embrace, her fingers becoming loose on his frame as she gradually lets go, her fingers still attached to his hands as she holds him at an arms length, her eyes scanning his face quickly in an action that reminds him remotely of his mother.  He misses her; he hasn’t seen her since Christmas.

 “Are you going to tell me, or shall I ask?” He tips his lips up in an unexpected smile at her words and she does the same at him, rubbing her thumb over his hand in comforting circles.

He tips his head to the floor then, sees the mark that looks far too much like piss to be anything else and groans, moving himself and Jade away from it to another sink by the hand dryer so he can lean against it and turn it on if he says something he doesn’t want to – the temptation makes his fingers itch.

He shrugs his shoulder, avoiding her eyes.  “I don’t really know, I’m okay now, just got a little bit overwhelmed,” His excuse sounds rubbish to his own ears but Jade doesn’t call him out on it, just keeps watching him with an owlish gaze, as if tracking him and searching him for the truth and he knows she’s found it - to what extent he isn’t sure, though - because she smiles sadly at him, eyes burning with a fire that makes even him sink to the floor.

“You’ll tell me when you feel ready, won’t you, if you need to?” He bites at his lip, knowing he wants to tell now, that’s he’s ready, sort of, to speak but it’s not his secret to tell; he shouldn’t even know about it, really.

“Course I will,” He whispers, voice cracking on his words as he speaks but he manages to say what he wants, his shirt splayed open against his chest and he’s almost certain he’s lost a button at some point in his little rage but they all seem to be there as Jade leans in and starts to button him up.

It feels oddly intimate, how she leans into him, her hands smooth and her fingers long as she twists and contorts the buttons to fit the holes, but she does it and it makes Niall’s lips tip up into an appreciative smile when she looks him in the eye again.  “Thanks, Jade.”

She waves him off instantly, telling him it’s fine before she reaches out a hand to smooth out Niall’s collar and wipes at his eyes.  Her touch is gentle around his eyes and it makes him feel like a scared little boy; like Louis had been.

“You feel better to be able to work, Nialler?” Her voice jingles and makes him reach out for her and wrap her up in a hug, her body too small in his arms; unlike Louis.

“Thank you,” She laughs against his shoulder, her head tipped against is as she rubs soothing circles in his back as he repeats the words like a mantra against her hair; it’s too curly; unlike Louis’.

“Right, well as much as I love being in the guys’ loos, I am going to leave; it’s disgusting in here!”  Niall cackles at her, sounding more like himself and he smiles at that, how she can put him in a good mood with the most stupid of comments. 

She’s like a breath of fresh air in his life, the sort of freshness that he needs just to clean out the drab parts of his life and set him up for happiness.  He feels poetic, leaning back against the sink and looking off into the distance.

“Are you coming then, Horan?” Her voice sounds amused as she leans against the door to the bathroom, half in and half out of the room and he nods quickly, trailing after her, hugging her against himself again, just to show her he’s thankful, even if she’s got no idea how she’s helped; she just has, just by being there.


	154. Chapter 154

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little bit soppy sometimes, apparently

The day is busy one since he got in before his shift, running away from Louis and the pictures and the memories of broken trust and a damaged life. 

He’s just been hanging around the aisles, directing and helping shoppers when they ask him where the aisle with sweet corn or jalapeno peppers or hamster wheels are but he doesn’t feel tired, he feels alive with it all, with working the full day instead of clocking in at 11 and back off at 4.  It’s good to be there from 8 to 8 instead, gives him something to do besides think of Louis or the broken promises that had been stolen away from Louis in a few frightful minutes.

He can feel the rattling in his bones as the shop floor starts to quieten the later the day becomes, as shoppers leave the supermarket, his fellow employees exiting the doors into the not-quite darkness back home not that much later having finished and clocked off. 

It’s eerie how it makes him feel like he’s being abandoned, how they’re leaving him when he has even spoken to or seen them all day and he swallows down the guilt of it, knowing that’s exactly what he did to Louis this morning.

Ed left a few hours before, waving him a goodbye as Niall had been stacking items on the shelves in the dairy section, cold fingers fumbling with yoghurts and bottles of milk.  His hands had been cool has he’d waved back, trying to ignore the look of concern evident in Ed’s eyes and how it hadn’t left all day since he’d walked into the supermarket and seen Niall working harder than he has in months. 

He’d questioned it of course, that’s just the sort of person Ed is, but Niall had just waved him off, telling him he was okay and that he just felt a bit bouncy and full of energy and needed to burn it off.  Ed had given him a disbelieving look which had been a constant fixture in his eyes the entire day, even when they slipped into the coffee shop to say hello to Liam and Alex, he’d been watching, keeping his eye on him like he was a scared little animal that would run off at any second.

Liam hadn’t mentioned it, saw the unease between the two and just let it go, clinging to Alex’s side more than Niall had ever seen him do and it had made him smile, watching his friend curl so closely into someone he’d admired and crushed on for months. 

It had made something whirl in his stomach, watching the pair of them smile so softly at each other, causing a longing to shoot through his stomach to wrap his arm around Louis’ waist and pull him close, tuck his fingers into the loops of his jeans and just breath him in, feel the softness of his flesh under his fingers, joining up the freckles that smattered across his skin and reciting them to memory before kissing his lips, tasting him on his lips long after they’d parted.

“You’ll tell me when you’re ready, yeah?” And Niall could have sworn that everyone he knew had asked him the exact same thing; it must come as part of being a friend of his, he thinks as he’s forced out of his daydream, Louis’ lips still imprinted into his mind, making his heart beat harder in his chest at the mere memory of how they’d fitted against his just a few days ago.

He flicks his gaze up to Ed’s, sees how his eyelids are drooping and his shoulders are slack as he stands, as if he’s barely keeping himself awake.  “I’m fine, Ed.”  He says, smiling up at his ginger friend but he doesn’t seem to accept it, so Niall rises to his feet off of the floor near the bottom shelf.  “Honestly, I’m good, there’s just a lot going on at the minute; I’m just tired, mate.”

Ed continues to study him with a concerned gaze and Niall’s cheeks flush as he ducks his head away from the intensity of it but he can still feel the burn of Ed’s eyes on his skin.  “Don’t get lost in your own head, mate, s’no good for you.”

He looks at Niall one more time before he turns on his heels, sticking his hands in his pockets and walking back out of the door, never looking back but Niall can still feel the heaviness of his gaze and words on himself, the intensity of them.

I’m not stuck in my own head, he thinks as he extracts milk bottles from the crate and puts them in the refrigerated shelves.  Their labels are bright in front of his face against the paleness of the milk inside and they hurt his eyes as he looks at them.  He rubs at his eyes, blinking a few times to stop the pain behind them but it doesn’t work.

There are splodges of colours behind his eyes that he can’t seem to blink away and it makes his head ache, watching them zoom past his irises.  All black and blue and red, that dance across his mind and his eyes, obscuring his vision and tattooing his sight with violent marks.

He recognises some of them; the little cuts that curled around the knuckles of Louis’ fingers when he bandaged them up a while back, the scratch on Louis’ temple that was starting to scab over, the blotches of purple bruises from the Police pictures.  He’s seen them before and it makes his stomach convulse, seeing them again.

He’s sat on the floor before he can stop himself, the floor cold underneath him but keeping him grounded as he presses the palms of his hands into his eyes, watching the memories of Louis’ broken body be blacked out by the pressure he puts on himself.

He knows that they’re not gone completely when he opens his eyes, but he does anyway and watches them fade from his sight slowly and disappear into nonexistence. 

The milk bottles are still around him and on the shelves but there’s no one else around him, he can hear the distant hum of a lorry somewhere near the back door of the shop but he can’t focus on it, can only hear the voice in his head that’s screaming at him to get up and leave.

Louis’ face is in his mind, a gentle, soft and caring smile gracing his lips and it makes Niall smile, just watching how it stretches across his face and pulls at his eyes, making him look undeniably younger.  He realises then that he doesn’t actually know how old Louis is.  He’d guess that he’s in his twenties, like Harry, but he’s not actually got any way to prove it or know for sure and it makes his heart twist in his chest because he knows so much but also so little about Louis but he wants to know it all.

Louis William Tomlinson:  Doncaster Rovers and Manchester United supporter with four sisters and a heart of gold.  His parents are divorced but his mum is engaged to a guy called Mark Tomlinson, who he took the surname of.  He likes _7Up_ and _Sprite_ but can’t tell the difference between them and smiles like there’s nothing to be sad about.

He looks up to Harry like he hung the stars in the sky but doesn’t like tickling.  He’s easy to get along with and when he was younger he mooned to his school during a performance of _Grease_.  He doesn’t talk to his dad often and lived with his mum and stepdad in Doncaster before moving to London a few years ago.  He misses his mum and sisters and rings or texts them as often as he can but he wishes he could afford to go down to see them more often than he does.

He’s got a job at _Toys R Us_ and he smiles every morning he has to work like it’s the only place he wants to go and wouldn’t trade it for the world.  He knows all of the words to more or less every song on the radio and smiles whenever he hears a song by _The Plain White Tees_ , grinning to himself and tapping out the beats like he knows nothing else thanks to his sister’s obsession with them a few years back. 

He’s funny with his cutlery and has to use the lightest pieces that he can find as heavy one’s ‘weigh down’ his wrist and aren’t ‘comfortable’ for him to use.  He laughs at the smallest of things and squeezes his eyes shut when he full-on laughs.  He ducks his head when he smiles hard or blushes and wraps his fingers together to give himself a distraction from people’s eyes. 

And he’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen and he loves him like there’s no one else in the world to take a single ounce of his affection and admiration, and he tells him so, right there on Louis’ doorstep with his supermarket nametag wonky against the tread of his shirt and his hair a mess from the wind that he ran through, his feet dampened by the puddles he failed to dodge to be able to get there.

But none of that matters when Louis smiles up at him, all soft and unsure with his eyes glistening in the dim light of his apartment, his hair damp and freshly washed atop his head, strands dipping down into his eyes and dampening his crinkled clothes, his feet tucked up in fluffy socks.  Because he’s there, and that’s all that really matters, that and the feel of Louis’ fingers around his neck as he kisses him slow and steady and passionately, showing him all the words he’s just recited without the need of air, because Louis is his air – he’s the necessity in his life that he can’t live without.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Feel free to check out my other work, if you'd like:)


	155. Chapter 155

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to have time to update and write proper chapters that make sense and are good and enjoyable for you guys but I don't and it's frustrating, I'm sorry

His throat feels raw as Niall’s lips press against his own, promises silent but resounding between them as Niall’s fingers curl around Louis’ hand, squeezing softly. 

Niall’s movements are hesitant before Louis responds, moving his lips against Niall’s, both of their lips twisting up into smiles as their fingers twist together, knotting in the middle between them.

Niall’s lips are lightly chapped but warm against Louis’ own where they’re moulded together; the dips and crevices slotting perfectly against Louis’ own and it feels so right that he can hardly breathe.

The press of Niall’s lips against his own makes his heart hammer in his chest, his skin become electrified and his mind empty completely, just the feel of Niall’s lips against his own consuming him and leaving him standing on his toes to reach.

Niall smiles against him as Louis stands up on his toes and it makes his cheeks flush before Niall’s pulling Louis’ body into his own, his hands a solid weight on Louis’ hips as he rubs soothing circles into his skin and ducking his head down to make it easier for Louis, their chests pressed against one another and Louis can feel the chill of the outside world on Niall’s body.

All thoughts escape Louis’ mind when he feels the heat of Niall’s hand against his flesh, heated and grounding as he loses himself in the kiss, letting his head tip to the side.  Niall grins against his lips at it all and Louis can’t help mirroring him, unable to stop himself as he’s blown away by Niall.

He’s blown away by the kiss and his words and how he’s looked at him like there was nothing that could make that look disappear and Louis wants that, has always wanted that, even if it’s selfish for him to have it.

Louis pulls back no much later, cheeks flushed and eyes still closed as he tries to catch his breath, his hand still entwined with Niall’s between them and the gentle strokes over his knuckles help to keep him upright when he feels like he could faint any moment.

“Lou?” Niall asks, voice sounding amused as he squeezes at Louis’ hand and Louis can’t even capture the courage to hit half heartedly at him, to tell him to leave him alone, because all of his energy has gone, vanished.

“Give me a minute,” Louis mumbles, flicking his tongue out to lick at his lips and the taste of Niall on his lips makes his stomach flip, butterflies forming and flapping about manically inside of him.  He knows he sounds breathless, his voice hoarse, but he can’t think about that, not when he’s just been _kissing_ Niall, Jesus.

Niall sounds amused even when Louis opens his eyes and he can slowly feel the heat draining from his cheeks, Niall’s fingers still between his own and he’s never wanted to kiss someone more than he does Niall now.

“Kiss me,” He whispers, looking up into Niall’s eyes, seeing the brightness of the blue and the happiness shining in his eyes and he just wants to feel him again, doesn’t know what else to do with himself if he can’t have that.  He has to tip his head slightly to look up into Niall’s eyes, he realises then, and he’s never noticed before how it feels to look up at Niall, to have to steer his eyes away from the blonde’s lips before he can meet his eyes; he likes it.

Niall doesn’t oblige his request right away and instead drops a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth that lands more on his cheek than anywhere else and Louis would be embarrassed by the noise that comes barrelling out of his throat if Niall wasn’t grinning at him and leaning in to press another kiss to his lips once he’d brushed a piece of hair off of his forehead and tucked it behind his ear.  A kiss on target, may he add.

It starts off slow, their lips just sliding against each other lazily as Louis’ hands come to rest around Niall’s waist, playing with the hem of his shirt, feeling the rub of the fabric between his fingers and he wants to feel it all of that time, to be able to twist it between his fingers and just fiddle with it for no reason at all.  

Niall’s hands, however, go to the hairs at the nape of Louis’ neck, twisting them around his fingertips and he keens into his touch, having to decide which he likes more, having his hair played with or his lips kissed and he hates to chose so he tries both, rather unsuccessfully - Niall chuckles at him.

Niall’s hands in his hair make him whimper softly but Niall swallows the noises, especially when Louis opens his mouth and presses the tip of his tongue across Niall’s lower lip, unsure.  He’s not really sure where Niall wants this to go but if Niall’s noise of surprise and then quiet moan are anything to go on, he’s not complaining.

Their tongues slide almost hesitantly across each other when they both open their mouths and it makes Louis’s stomach flip at how much different it feels from the kiss they shared just seconds before.

Niall’s tongue swiping against his lower lip before sluicing across his tongue makes the hairs on the back of Louis’ neck stand on end and it feels like shocks of electric are shooting through his veins and igniting his skin, making him feel more alive than he ever has before.

The kiss deepens after that, their bodies coming closer together and their movements more hurried, rushed as they explore one another and it’s only when Niall feels the cool chill of wind on his back does he realise that they’re still stood in Louis’ doorway.

Louis makes a whining noise in the back of his throat when Niall pulls away to push them into Louis’ flat and Niall just grins, darting down to press delicate, open mouth kisses to Louis’ jaw, feeling the scruff under his lips as he leans up to whisper in Louis’ ear.

“I love you,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and say hello to me on twitter, maybe? @Cant_Catch_Me


	156. Chapter 156

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and just a little hello to my new BFF, you know who you are:)

There’s something familiar about Niall’s lips on his own that makes him want to cry.  The press of the taller boy’s lips on his own reminding him of those timid times before when they’d done this and their movements had been careful and unsure as they’d moved their lips against each other with no real direction or knowledge on where it could all go.  But now, Louis thinks he knows where this could go.

He’s thought about it for a while; how Niall makes him want to open his eyes and see anything and everything without hiding and he wants to see everything, with Niall.  How Niall makes him smile without meaning to, without needing a reason and he doesn’t know how to put into words just how lovely that feels.  There’s just something about him that makes Louis want to come _alive,_ and he likes it, more than he can put into words.

Niall’s hands are careful on his waist as he fingers at the skin there and slowly pushes him into his flat, shutting the door behind them before grinning down at him and stroking a finger across his lower lip, eyes seemingly entranced. 

Niall’s caress is velvety against his lips and it makes him smile softly, lips curling under Niall’s fingertips as they smooth across them up to his cheek to hold his face in his hands, just cupping his face before he presses a soft kiss to his nose.  “I love you,”

The words make Louis’ breath hitch, his heart stopping before restarting and beating ten times as fast in his chest, thundering against his ribcage and he can hear how it rattles against the slats of bones, feels it knocking off of each one until it bashes into another before repeating the same cycle again somewhere else in his chest.

 _I love you_.  The words he wants to hear, has been desperate to say, knows – pretty certain, at least - that he feels them for Niall but the blonde beat him to them and he just don’t quite know what to do with himself anymore.

He can feel Niall’s gaze on him and he wants to speak, to reciprocate Niall’s words, but for some reason, he can’t and he just hiccups out a breath instead, a lone tear clinging to his eyelash as he ducks his head, suddenly overwhelmed for no reason whatsoever.

He must sound like he’s crying because Niall pulls him into his body so quickly that he can’t remember how he got there or when the scent of Niall’s skin became something that calmed him down so massively, how the fibres of Niall’s cheap supermarket shirt became such a comfort in his life.

Niall doesn’t apologise for his words, doesn’t speak at all, actually, and Louis can’t blame him.  If the roles were reversed, he’d have no idea what to do or how to solve this, to fix the problem and he’d probably just hold Niall in his arms too, maybe whisper the occasional affectionate word in his hair if he could breath properly and seeing a sad Niall didn’t rip his heart from his chest and leave him gasping and clinging to the final strings of life.

He wants to say the words back, to see how they feel as they roll off of his tongue and into Niall’s ears, to watch a small smile play out on his lips and just watch how he responds to the words; whether his eyes crinkle, his nose scrunches or his cheeks blush pink.  He just wants to know.

“I like you too,” He says into the itchy fibres of Niall’s work shirt and he just wants to cuddle up close to it forever, just because he knows Niall’s worn it, that his scent is embedded deep within the fibres.  His voice sounds scratchy and strained, he knows but he tries anyway, fists his hands in the back of Niall’s shirt and just clings to him.

Niall’s body relaxes somewhat against him when he says that, as if falling into Louis’ arms when he’s doing the same to Niall and he wants to laugh at it, to poke at Niall’s cheeks and get him to laugh his bright, sunshine laugh at what they’re doing.

“We can sit down, if you want, it’s getting late,” Niall says, dipping his head into Louis’ hair, the words blowing at the strands and it’s only then that he realises just how slumped against Niall he is and how he’s barely managing to keep himself upright.  It’s a miracle that they haven’t just fallen over.

“Don’t need to sit down,” Louis mumbles and his throat hurts as he speaks and it feels weird, the roughness of his voice and how familiar it sounds since he got used to it all those months ago.

“Lou, you need something to drink,” Niall whispers, running his hands up Louis’ sides over his shirt, bunching up the fibres but he couldn’t care less. 

Louis pouts up at him, trying to look intimidating with his eyes still red and cheeks blotchy but Niall just looks at him like he’s a baby deer that’s going against his mother’s requests.   “You’ll wreck your voice if you don’t,”

He says silent as Niall huffs out a breath, smiling fondly at him as he hugs Louis to his body, turning his head towards the sofa and staring at it idly.  “What if I carried you to the sofa, then would you drink?” Louis shakes his head, feeling playful as he watches Niall shake his head knowingly, eyes alight with unshed laughter.

“What if I was to piggyback you to the sofa instead, then?” 

“That’s pretty much the same thing, Horan.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Niall shrugs, smiling brightly and Louis grins up at him, feeling a heavy weight lift from his shoulders at how safe he suddenly feels around Niall, not that he didn’t before, he just feels it more now as he watches him look at him so intently that it hurts.

“Bridal style?” Niall’s cheeks are flushed a light pink but his eyes give nothing away, like he has no problem with that idea and Louis has no objections either, to be honest; he just shakes his head to be a pain in the arse.

Niall’s looking down at him with a sparkle in his eyes that Louis’ never seen before but he wants to see it again and again and again.  “I’m not going to force you,”  His words are spoken so softly and Louis feels his heart break then as Niall moves to cup his face in his hands and bring him in for a hug that Louis didn’t know he needed until he received it. 

The world feels big and scary around him at Niall’s choice of words, as if he’s accepting what Louis’ been through and that he understands, regardless of what he does and doesn’t know and it’s a funny feeling, all of it together.  Niall’s watching him like he hung the stars in the sky and really, he’s more likely to be seen as the person that ripped them down, but he still looks at him in such a way that Louis’ stomach flips aggressively. 

He’s not told Niall half of what he needs to know if he’s going to be able to love him, but he’s doing it anyway, as if he doesn’t need to know what happened, as though it’s in the past and he understands that Louis doesn’t want to have to think about it again; that he’s done more than enough pondering over the event as it is.

He flicks his eyes up to look up at Niall and he feels a bit self-conscious in the dim light of the room with his hair still wet from his shower and his clothes too big for his body as if they’re hanging off of a skeleton rather than a living man, but Niall won’t let him hide.  He keeps his hand on Louis’ jaw and it feels wrong to move away, so he doesn’t and keeps his eyes on the slightly taller boy, sees how his scruff has left red marks across the skin around Niall’s mouth and he wants to do it again, feels the burn in the pit of his stomach to see just how dark he can make those marks.

He feels a bit sick at himself for his thought, the idea of owning Niall through possessive marks and pain and quickly wipes away the thoughts from his brain, burning them in the back of his mind until they’re little more than ashes, blackened and forgotten with his own marks.

Louis reaches out for Niall’s hand, his body shaking and his mind in overdrive as their fingers curl together again and shocks of electric zoom down Louis’ veins and around his body, as if magnetising and enhancing each and every one of his senses as their skin brushes together and he looks up at Niall with a soft smile.  “You offered me a ride,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and say hello, maybe, if you want? @Cant_Catch_Me


	157. Chapter 157

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My exams are all over now, so my summer starts now, aha! Hopefully my updates will be a lot more regular than they have been! 
> 
> "I am human and I need to be loved, just like everybody else does." - The Smiths // You know who you are, LA

Niall grins wide as Louis tucks himself under his chin, the damp strands of his hair tickling at the soft skin under Niall’s jaw, Louis’ even breath comforting against his Adam’s apple.

He can feel the curve of Louis’ smile against his skin, the way his lips curl up and twist into a grin that makes something hot bubble up in the pit of Niall’s stomach as he wraps his arms tighter around Louis’ frame, tucking his fingertips into the excess material bunched around Louis’ waist from Niall’s jumper.

Louis laughs against him as Niall’s movements become slower, the rise and fall of his feet as he walks across the floor of Louis’ apartment with said boy stood on his feet decreasing to mere shuffles the longer he carries the brunette.

“You can put me down, y’know?  I know I’m heavy,” Louis whispers against his shoulder as he leans into Niall’s frame, his fingers curled around Niall’s waist to keep his balance and it makes Niall smile so hard to have him just so _close_ now.

Louis’ voice sounds a little bit sad, as if he’s upset at himself as he speaks and Niall wants to pull him impossibly closer and kiss him until his lips are red raw and he can’t bear to say words like those again.  “You’re not heavy, Lou.  You’re light as a feather, barely anything on you.”

Louis makes no complaint at Niall’s words but he feels bad about them anyway, feels Louis deflate slightly at them.  Niall knows why there’s barely anything on his bones, how there’s merely flesh covering them and stopping him from being blown away by the briefest breeze and he feels bad for bringing it up, even remotely.

He grits his teeth at himself, tightening his hold on Louis’ body as they get closer and closer to the sofa, but he bypasses it anyway, walking them towards what he hopes is Louis’ room, trying to push away his guilt at his previous words.

Louis peeks his head over Niall’s shoulder when he sees the whitewash of the walls around them change to the murky blue of the short hallway. “What’re we doing?”

He blinks up at Niall, lost, and Niall just smiles softly, ducking his face down to Louis’ neck, pressing a soft kiss below his ear.  “You’re going to get dressed and we’re going to go out for a proper meal.”

The confusion in Louis’ eyes clears then, before it quickly returns and he’s wrapping his hands up in the long sleeves of Niall’s jumper that literally swallows him whole; it’s adorable really.

“We don’t have to,” Louis urges, covering his stomach with his hands as if he thinks that’s the reason why Niall’s suggested it.  “It’ll be expensive.”

Niall shakes his head at the smaller boy, smiling softly at him before he presses his hands into the curve of Louis’ back, bringing him impossibly close once again to whisper in his ear.  “It’ll be worth it.”  Louis’ cheeks are littered with a gentle blush as Niall pulls away to press a gentle kiss to Louis’ lips.  “Now get ready, Lou.”

He parts from Louis and smiles at him, heart racing as he rides the wave of his high of Louis William Tomlinson, and not even remembering how he learnt Louis’ full name can ruin his mood as Louis steps up on his tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips before disappearing inside his bedroom, leaving Niall a smiling mess in the middle of Louis’ hall with his nametag crooked against the fibres of his shirt and the bottoms of his trousers wet from the rain, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Louis doesn’t take long to come out of his room with his hair dry and ruffled carefully on his head and Niall just wants to tangle his fingers in the long strands and wrap them around his knuckles, feel them twist around his skin.  His legs are clad in a pair of black skinny jeans and they make him look impossibly thin, his collarbone exposed in his white t-shirt with a light denim jacket thrown over the top and Niall’s never wanted to share his food with anyone before like he does with Louis as he watches his bones work under his tan skin.

“I didn’t know where we were going, so I didn’t know how to dress,” Louis mumbles, scuffing his black Vans into the carpet, keeping his eyes ducked.  “Do I look okay?”

He sounds desperate as Niall tries to swallow the lump in his throat with all of the heartfelt, sappy compliments he wants to say, biting his tongue and smiling softly, standing up from off of the sofa and walking over to the unsure boy to entwine their fingers.  “Perfect,”

Louis’ shoulders relax then and he chances a look at Niall from under his eyelashes, his cheeks littered with a light dusting of pink.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Niall assures, squeezing Louis’ hand and feeling the bones against his hand as he does so.  “You want to head off now or wait a bit?  Are you even hungry, actually?”  He pauses, mind going into overdrive.  “God, you’ve already eaten or something, haven’t you?  Jesus, I’m sorry.  Don’t worry, we can stay here, I forgot what time it was.  Stupid me.”

“I’ve not eaten,” Louis says quickly, running his thumb over Niall’s hand and it makes him smile, the friction of their skin together.  “I’m ready to go when you are.”

“I’m ready anytime,” Niall says, just looking down at Louis and seeing how his hair has grown so it curls around his ears, tempting him into twisting it around his fingertips to see the contrast of his brunette hair against the porcelain of his skin.  “I hope you don’t mind that I’m in my work stuff; I haven’t got anything else to wear.”

“You can borrow something, if you like; you just had to ask.”  He’s rushing off before Niall can respond and it makes him smile, his cheeks hurting with the force of it as he trails the smaller boy into his bedroom and it feels strangely intimate, being inside.

Louis’ raiding the sets of drawers and the wardrobe when he enters the room and it makes his heart swell in his chest as he watches the Doncaster boy bite at his lower lip in concentration as he hunts down something for him to wear.

“I don’t know if I’ve got any jeans that will fit you,”  Louis sneaks a look at Niall from over his shoulder and Niall smiles wide as a crimson tinge hits his cheeks at being looked at by Louis that way.  He’s such a teenage girl, god.

“I think I’ve got one pair,” He pulls out a piece of denim, holding them up and nodding at them before turning to Niall.  “These should fit,” A shirt comes not too much later and Niall has to try to keep the jaw splitting grin off of his face as he holds them in his hand, the scent of Louis hitting him like a tsunami.  “You can borrow anything you want, just grab what you want; I’ll leave you to it, I’ll be on the sofa if you need me.”

He’s gone more or less straight away, his ass defined jaw droppingly well by his jeans and his legs shapely inside of them as he walks and Niall just wants to hold him, but he can’t as he slips out of his own clothes and tries to make Louis’ fit.

It doesn’t take a lot to make them fit, just tugging the jeans up his legs and they’re a little loose on his bum but other than that they’re good; not too tight and not too loose either – near perfect.  The t-shirt however is a little bit too short on him, rides up around his waist so he raids Louis’ drawers, pulling out shirts carefully and holding them up against himself in the hopes of finding one that might fit.

Louis’ balled up on the sofa when Niall steps out of the room, his head ducked as he taps at his phone screen before he peeks out the corner of his eye and makes a soft noise in the back of his throat.  “You find something then?” His voice is hoarse and Niall wants to question him on it, but he just nods, pulling at the hem of the shirt to make it fit.

They stand in each other’s presence for a while, just watching and looking at each other for a short time before Louis’ phone dings in his hand and he startles, Niall laughing gently at him as he takes Louis’ hand, turning for the door and nodding at it.  “Ready?”

“Ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and say hello on Twitter, maybe? @Cant_Catch_Me


	158. Chapter 158

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this has taken so long to post, I've re-written it so many times because I haven't been happy with it at all:( I hope it's okay?

The night air is stagnant around them as they walk, their hands occasionally brushing together as they head down the winding streets of London, the bright lights from million-pound skyscrapers acting like stars in the sky and far-off music from distant clubs like the chirps of crickets and late night bird song in the blanket of darkness.

Niall can feel the unease rolling off of Louis’ body the further from his building they walk and he hates it; how his steps are more calculated and his breaths laboured as they go, his eyes wide when the headlights from cars bounce off them, showing the pure unease on his face the longer they’re outside. 

“We can go back if you want, Lou,” He doesn’t expect him to accept because that’s not the sort of person Louis is, so it’s no surprise when he refuses.  He’s strong and refuses to give up; he refuses to be weak and won’t let anyone trample over him anymore; Louis’ an inspiration, really.

Louis’ eyes are darting around frantically as they walk, his hands balled up into shaky fists by his thighs as they follow the direction of the streets, sheathed in the blanket of the night sky so Niall takes his hand as they walk, curling his fingers around Louis’ bunched up fist to tempt him to unfurl his fingers and soothe his tense stature.  Louis releases a breath of relief at that, seeming to migrate closer to Niall’s body than he had been previously and he can’t help but smile.

The place Niall has in mind isn’t too far away now, he can almost see the street they need to turn down to get to it, but Louis’ pace slows suddenly the closer they get to it and it’s then that Niall understands.

“You okay?” Niall whispers, ducking his head down to Louis’ ear and squeezing lightly at his hand to keep him calm as they walk past a large group of women, tumbling around in high heels and cackling loudly at each other with large burly men hanging around them, their hands more or less up their skirts and their palms across their chests as they slobber on each others’ necks like leeches.  It’s disgusting, really and Niall feels a bit sick watching it.

Louis nods his head quickly, his hair falling across his forehead and Niall can’t bear to watch him put it back into place when he looks so cute with it there, so he just brushes Louis’ hand away and shakes his head.  “It looks good.”

Louis blushes, ducking his head as they walk before his eyes continue to flit nervously from Niall’s eyes and past Niall’s shoulder to look behind them, but his eyes look somewhat relieved and Niall can’t thank the heavens enough as they get further and further away from the rowdy group.

They’re out on the main street with cars zooming past them and lighting up Louis’ face each time they race past, their bright headlights showing the tightness of Louis’ jaw, not meeting Niall’s eyes and smiling tightly – falsely – up at him whenever he asks if he’s okay.  Niall sighs, shaking his head at Louis sadly and slowing their pace, pulling them against the first building he sees.

 “You’re not okay,”

He cuts any pretences, unable to cope with the false look of certainty and security on Louis’ face and the shorter boy’s face just falls, the fake security slipping off of his face instantly, exposing the slight shake of his lower lip under the dull gleam of the streetlight above.

“Just brings back bad memories, I guess,” Louis whispers, looking over Niall’s shoulder rather than up into his eyes and Niall keeps a comforting hold on his hand, squeezing it in understanding when he realises what he’s done and where they are, how close to the bad memories they actually are. 

“Can we get off this road?” Louis whispers, voice hoarse and he keeps looking out at a narrow alleyway behind them and Niall can’t move them fast enough, tugging on Louis’ arm quickly and walking as fast as he can away from the direction of the little restaurant he had in mind as he tucks Louis into his side, his hand a comforting weight on Louis’ waist as the streets pass by in a blur of unrecognisable faces and blinding headlights.

Niall doesn’t know where to stop as Louis keeps his face pressed into Niall’s shirt – Louis’ shirt, he can hardly keep the grin off of his lips at the thought – and it’s only then that he realises just how cold it is out and Louis may be wearing a jacket but the night air must still be nipping at his skin.

He runs his hands over Louis’ own, trying to warm them up with the friction between their skins, grinning when Louis smiles against his chest and whispers a gentle _thank you_ into the fibres. 

Louis blows hot breaths across Niall’s throat and chest as they walk the endless London streets, never stopping and never slowing until they hit a dead end.

Louis’ makes a noise of appreciation at the dead end, as he unfurls his head from Niall’s chest and his eyes spy the tacky sign hanging above the shop door and his nose meets the scent of kebab meat.  He blushes at the noise and it’s the best thing that Niall’s ever seen as Louis’ cheeks flush and his eyes widen dramatically before he ducks his head down, apologising profusely and covering his stomach with his arms to quell the gurgles from it.

“Kebab it is then,” Niall grins, pulling the door of the shop open and waving the blushing boy inside, his cheeks growing darker still before they’re hit by bright LED lights, whitewash walls and the overbearing scent of meat and spices.

The shop is empty except for them and the lone worker behind the counter that looks as tired as the shop’s decor and it’s nice, in it’s own way.  The worker is strapped up in an apron and rubber gloves as he handles food and Niall can’t help but chuckle when Louis’s stomach goes off again, whispered apologises hitting Niall’s ears again before he wraps his arm around Louis waist, kissing his hair and telling him it’s fine.  Louis instantly melts in his embrace and he can’t help but grin as he guides them to the counter.

“What can I get you?” The man, a tall guy with his hair tucked up inside of a hair net asks and he looks ridiculous really, with his broad shoulders and arms full of tattoos and a hair net on his head.  Louis seems to think so too as he chuckles lightly into the flesh of Niall’s arm, hiding his face, the curve of his smile imprinting in Niall’s skin and Niall just wants to melt.

Niall’s eyes scan the menu boards that hang above the man and his fellow employee and he rattles his order off to him; a normal kebab with onion rings and a can of _Sprite_.  “What would you like, Lou?”

He strokes his fingers through Louis’ hair at the back of his neck, curling his fingers around the long strands as Louis’ eyes scan the boards, a subtle silence falling between them before Louis leans his head back into Niall’s fingers, mewling at the sensation. 

“Chicken kebab and chips, please?”  His eyes are closed as he speaks and Niall just smiles, trying to keep his heart trapped in his rib cage instead of jumping out like it wants to.  “Oh, and a can of _7UP_?”

Niall chuckles as he hears it, pulling out his wallet to pay for them whilst Louis is distracted by his hands in his hair and the man behind the counter barely even blinks, as if this is just a normal thing for him to see, and maybe it is, who’s Niall to judge?

“Do you wanna eat it in here?” Niall whispers, resting his head on Louis’ shoulder as he manoeuvres them away from the counter and watching as their food is made.  “Or we could go back to yours or mine and eat it there; it’s up to you.”

Louis shrugs his shoulders carefully, tipping his head back against Niall’s cheek, peeking his eyes open.  “I’m happy wherever.”

Their food is ready not much later and it’s hot against their fingers as they carry it to one of the tables across the far side of the shop against the large front windows, picking at it as they walk.  “This is good!” Niall says between bites of kebab meat and Louis’ tinkling laugh is well worth the burnt fingers he gets from stealing the pieces when they’re still hot.

There’s barely any room between them as they eat and Louis seems to be pushing his chair closer, his feet hooking around the legs of Niall’s as they sit next to each other, talking about their day and just general chat, punctuating it with cramp-inducing laughter and crinkled eyes.

“He did not!” Niall squawks and Louis just grins, his mouth wide and his eyes bright as he nods his head, picking at his kebab with his fingers before popping it in his mouth and chewing. “He seriously asked someone to sleep with him because he liked their shirt?”

“He did and it was a horrible shirt.” Louis screws his face up in disgust and Niall can only laugh harder in response.  “It had these, like, puzzle pieces printed on it and each of them had a letter in.  The guy claimed it was a ‘soul mates’ shirt and Harry loved it!  He was hunting down where their initials were put together and he pulled that line to get in the guy’s pants.”  Louis cocks his head to the side, leaning on his hand as he picks at his food.  “Not that he had to work very hard, really.”

Niall can’t help but laugh, tipping his can of _Sprite_ to his lips as he watches Louis eat, the slow motions of his jaw as he chews and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows drawing him in.  Louis mesmerises him, even with the most simple of movements.

“I can’t believe that we never got to know each other through Harry before,” Niall comments once his laughter has died down.  He cocks his head to the side, watching Louis as he lowers his can, setting it back on the table before Louis steals it, taking a sip before following it with a drag of his _7UP,_ grinning like a child when Niall catches him.

“Me either,” Louis says, a smile in his voice, holding the two cans between his fingers, examining them.  “I still can’t taste the difference.”  He sounds frustrated with himself and Niall can’t help but grin, bopping Louis on the nose.

“You’ll strain your eyes,” He scolds when Louis looks up at him, lost, before his features soften and he lowers the cans to the worktop once again. 

“Maybe they’re the same drink in different packaging?” Louis’ eyes are blue and enticing in the tacky LED lighting of the shop and his childlike personality is so endearing and Niall really wants to kiss him, so he does.

It’s a simple press of their lips together and he can taste the chicken on Louis’ mouth, the remnants of _Sprite_ and _7UP_ mixing in with it.  “I really wanted to do that,” He whispers as he pulls away slightly, his face still in front of Louis’ own, but close enough for him to turn away if he wants.

“I really wanted you to do that too,” Louis whispers, cheeks flushed in a dainty pink as Niall runs his thumb over Louis’ cheek and over his high cheek bones, prominent under his thin skin.  “Thanks for this,”  He waves his hand at his half-eaten kebab before picking up another piece of chicken and directing  it towards Niall’s lips at the last minute instead of his own, a tender blush on his cheeks and an unsure smile on his lips.  “Would you like some?”

He opens his mouth obediently, taking the food from between Louis’ fingers and grinning when Louis licks at his fingers whilst Niall chews.  He honestly has no idea what he does to him, god.  “Would you like some of this?”

They sit feeding each other until all of their food is gone and Louis’ just waggling pieces of lettuce and tomato under Niall’s nose, laughing brightly, his eyes scrunched up and his smile wide across his face and he just looks so young and carefree like this, like he hasn’t experienced the shit that he has in his life.

“I’m not a rabbit!” Niall cackles, pushing Louis’ hand away from his face, the lettuce falling sadly on the table between them and Louis’ face is priceless.  “I don’t want salad, it’s rabbit food!”

“Are you insulting my food choices, Horan?” Louis’ voice goes serious and Niall’s laughter instantly dies in his throat, his stomach dropping when Louis looks at him with hurt eyes and pouting lips and he wants to take it all back.

“No, no!” Niall says, picking up the lettuce and lifting it towards his mouth.  “I’ll eat it, I’m sorry.  It’s not rabbit food,” He doesn’t really want to eat it, isn’t an overly big fan of lettuce but for Louis he wants to eat it, would probably do anything Louis wanted if it meant wiping away the sadness from his face.

The tip of it hits his lip and he wants to squirm away from his own hand and stop his own actions, but Louis is watching him with a look of pure hope so he carries on and he just wants to drop it, but he can’t.  And then Louis is laughing uncontrollably.

The noise of it makes Niall’s heart sing and it startles the worker behind the counter who instantly jumps from his place near the fryers to see what’s going on before he shakes his head and turns back around to work again when he sees Louis’ head thrown back childishly and the laughter bubbling from his mouth. 

“That was so good!” He cackles, his eyes scrunching up and his cheekbones high as he laughs loud and openly in the quiet of the shop, almost tumbling off of his stool had it not been for Niall’s foot keeping it balanced on the legs of his stool.  “Oh my god!” He’s gasping for air and Niall wants to be mad at him for making him almost eat the lettuce but he can’t, so he throws it at him instead, laughing when it lands on Louis’ right eye.

That shuts him up instantly as he eyes it with a look of confusion before pulling it off of his face and flopping it back onto the table between them, picking up a lone burnt chip and throwing it towards Niall.  “I can’t believe you did that!”

Niall laughs regardless, flicking the chip away from himself, lips spread into a wide smile as he bows in his seat for Louis and is rewarded with a wide smile in return.  “My pleasure,”

They sit watching each other for what feels like the shortest time as the remnants of their food lay between them in their polystyrene containers and on the tabletop around them, Louis fiddling with a little sachet of ketchup before he rips it open and smirks at Niall.

It doesn’t even register that there’s ketchup on his face before he feels it run down his nose and watches Louis’ smile grow considerably wider.  “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Louis says, lips schooled into a straight line but his eyes are still bright and alive with the smile that had taken residence on his face just moments before and Niall can’t help himself, leaning forward in his chair and getting up in Louis’ space and pressing his lips to Louis’, making sure their noses touch messily.

When he pulls away there’s a smudging of ketchup littering Louis’ nose as well as his own and he grins wide, watching Louis’ eyes cross to look at it and instantly decides that there’s no face that Louis can pull that will make him look unattractive.  “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Niall parrots and Louis just rolls his eyes, grinning from ear to ear before laughing loud and rambunctiously, brining his hand up to cover his mouth before he realises that he’s still got the sachet between his fingers and it squirts over his lips.

Niall watches amused as Louis tries to stop both Niall and himself from laughing and failing remarkably as he ducks his head down, hunting the tabletop for a napkin to wipe himself down with.

“Is it gone?” Louis asks, dabbing at his face with his newly found napkin and wiping away the splatters of ketchup, laughter still evident in his voice as he looks at Niall and he can’t help himself.

“Missed a bit,” Niall whispers, leaning into Louis’ space and pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips where there’s a blob of ketchup he’s missed, licking it away slowly, feeling Louis tense up before melting underneath him.

Louis’ hands come to wrap around Niall’s neck when he moves to pull away, shaking his head, his eyes droopy and adorable as he presses a chaste kiss to Niall’s lips again, keeping them close to one another even when their lips have parted ways.

There’s still ketchup on their noses as they kiss in the quiet of the shop, their movements slow and gentle as their hands wrap around each other and they try to balance on their wobbly stools whilst also showing each other the words they haven’t yet voiced.

“Excuse me, but it’s closing time.” The man from behind the counter seems to appear from out of nowhere as their kisses deepen, Louis’ lips parting slightly for Niall to enter and he wants to curse at him for stopping this moment.  “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”  He looks regretful so Niall will let him off.

Niall’s brain is still wrapped up in the memory of how Louis’ lips felt against his and how his breath had been hot against his mouth as they kissed, air too overrated for them to bother to pull apart as they explored each other; no rushing and no requirements to meet other than to make the other smile between their embrace, and they succeeded.

Louis’ cheeks are flushed when Niall settles his attention on the older boy once again, smiling at him and wiping his finger over Louis’ nose to wipe away the ketchup and pressing it to Louis’ kiss-raw lips, watching his eyes sparkle in the tacky light of the shop before he throws away their rubbish and wipes away his own ketchup covering.  “Home time then, Lou.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to come and say hello on Twitter @Cant_Catch_Me :)


	159. Chapter 159

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for the lack of updates and the crappiness of this chapter, all I can say is that I'm sorry:(

The flannel on his face is damp yet too hot against his forehead where it had previously been cool, his skin still burning underneath the material of it as he blinks his eyes open, his phone buzzing loudly on his bedside table.  His head hurts as he forces his eyes open, reaching out blindly to find his phone and shut it up.

“Louis,” A shrill voice says, startling him from his final minutes of sleep as he jumps at the noise.  “Lou?  It’s Perrie, you there?”  Fuck, he can’t handle this now.

“Yeah, I’m here,” He blinks lazily down at his phone to see he’s pressed connect to the call not ignore and sighs.  “I’m not late am I?”  He doesn’t want to lose his job; he likes the normality of it all, the pieces of normal he’s picked up and messily glued back together again after they were swiped so easily from between his fingers.

“Not unless you can fit in a few hours today,” Louis’ head isn’t clear enough to try and decipher her message and his stomach feels like it’s doubled in size.  He groans.  “Jenny’s had a family emergency and we need someone to cover for her.”  Perrie sounds stressed out and there’s an awful lot of background noise beneath her voice.  “We’re run off our feet a bit.”  How a toy store can be chocker when it is a. not Christmas and b. there is no sale he’ll never know, but apparently it is.

“I’ll do it.”  He answers quickly, flicking his attention over at the sofa in the living room where Niall is but the words are already out and the voice in his head is too late.

“You will?” Louis makes a sound of affirmation, shuffling himself around under his sheets, trying to get his limbs to function correctly and his stomach to stop flipping uncomfortably since there surely can’t be anything more to leave it after last night.  He can still taste the remnants of vomit on the back of his tongue.  “Oh that’s so great, Lou!  Thank you so much!  Come in as soon as you can, yeah?  I’ll see you when you get in.”

There’s a rushed goodbye between them as Louis slips on a pair of socks, his head feeling like cotton wool and a shooting sensation ripping across his forehead when he takes the flannel off of his head.  His stomach gurgles uncomfortably and he feels a bit queasy as he moves, dressing himself for the day ahead before he slips out of his room, spying Niall on the sofa.

He only just fits on the sofa, his body tucked up in the fetus position and his hair messy against his head where he’s wrapped up under the throw blanket that lives across the back of Louis’ sofa, his arms under his head as a makeshift pillow, black bags under his eyes and there’s a nagging in his heart when he spies that Niall’s still wearing his clothes, the material pulled tight across Niall’s frame where they’d hang loose on his own now, but that doesn’t stop him from leaving.

“Thanks for coming in, Lou, means a lot.” Perrie directs him through the shop to Jenny’s department where puzzles and board games are lined up in neat rows on the shelves.  “We got a new delivery this morning and we need to stack them on the shelves.”

Her explanation is brief but necessary as she shows him what order he needs to stack them in and where to find the labels he needs for the shelves and he feels dizzy as he watches her flit across the floor from shelf to shelf.  “You okay, Lou?”

Her hand is pressed to his forehead before he can answer, her frown meeting him instantly as he feels the heat from his skin transfer onto her own.  “You’re really hot.  Are you sure you should be in today?”

He waves her off quickly, telling her he’s fine and he just feels a bit warm because he’s got his jacket on still.  She looks unconvinced but she leaves him alone anyway, promising she’ll be back when it calms down a bit at the tills and down the other aisles.

He feels his phone vibrate with a text around ten o’clock and he knows who it is without even pulling it out of his pocket but he carries on stacking the shelves, his hands trembling and his stomach groaning.

He gets progressively worse as the day goes on and he can feel Perrie’s worry for him three aisles away as she does her own work, coming down to check on him now and again, always telling him to go rest in the staff room but he refuses, his phone continuously vibrating in his pocket and no doubt telling him the same thing as Perrie.

“You look as sick as a dog, Lou,” Perrie soothes, pulling the jigsaw he’s fiddling with from between his hands.  “At least go lie down, please?  Or go outside and get some fresh air.  You look like you’re going to faint any second.”

He acknowledges her request when she threatens to call down the manager, stating how she’ll have a go at him if she finds out he’s working when he’s sick, so he goes and the cool air ignites his skin, making the hairs on his arms stand on end as he leans back against the wall, trying to keep himself upright.  His phone vibrates in his pocket again, pulling him out of his thoughts as he pulls it out of his pocket.

‘Where’d you go, Lou?  You feeling any better?  I’ve stolen your house key, by the way :) x’

‘Please tell me you didn’t go to work. x’

‘You’re not supposed to be at work, you’re still unwell :( Where are you?  Let me know, yeah? x’

He smiles shakily down at his phone and Niall’s concern at his whereabouts, typing out a reply quickly.

‘I’m at work and yeah, I feel better.  Don’t worry x’

Niall’s reply is instantaneous and he’s not really sure what he was expecting but it wasn’t what he gets.

‘I’m supposed to worry, that’s my job. x’

Louis doesn’t know quite what to reply to that, so he doesn’t, tucking his phone back into his pocket and taking steadying breaths and careful steps back down to his aisle to stack more shelves, avoiding Perrie’s eyes when she shakes her head at him across the shop floor and when he tells her to go for his lunch break.  The mere thought of food makes him feel queasy.

His stomach still feels funny as he works, but he ignores it, trying to keep his mind on the task at hand instead so that he’s not distracted by the groans of his belly as his sickness takes over.  He gets pretty much everything he’s supposed to done by just after lunchtime but he’s sweating buckets with the effort of it all, feeling increasingly queasy the longer he stands upright.

“I swear you said you were feeling better,” Niall’s voice sounds from the end of the aisle and Louis jumps at the sound of it, turning on shaky legs to look at Niall where he’s stood with Perrie, two takeaway cups and a paper bag in his hands as he eyes Louis with a look of worry.

“He’s claimed to be fine all morning,” Perrie pipes in, leaning against the display of Barbie jigsaws at the end of the aisle, watching Louis as closely as Niall is.  “He refused to go home.”

Louis makes a whining sound in the back of his throat as he tries to formulate his argument to her words and Niall’s expression but it dies in his throat as he swallows down the vomit that barrels its way up his throat, face scrunching up at both the taste and the feel of it.

Niall’s up in his space instantly, passing the cup of what Louis initially thought was coffee into his hands and up towards his lips.  It’s tea, Louis smiles despite himself.  “Drink,” Niall orders softly, his eyes worried and he runs a hand over Louis’ arm. 

It all reminds him of just a few hours earlier when Louis had his head hung sadly over the toilet bowl, his skin sweaty and both hot and cold, shivers wracking their way over his frame as Niall whispered sweet nothings into his hair and pulled his shaggy hair off of his face as he rubbed soothing hands over Louis’ back, telling him to stop trying to stop it and just let it happen, that it was fine. 

Louis felt disgusting then and he feels the same now, but Niall’s here and he can’t even begin to protest, to ask him to leave him alone, that he’s okay because there’s a bone-deep exhaustion in his body that’s ridding him of all of his fight, forcing him to give into Niall’s soothing words and let his sickness wash over him without complaint.  “Wash away the taste, babe.”

Louis’ mind short-circuits as he tips the tea to his lips, letting it tumble down his throat as he keeps his eyes trapped on Niall, his breath caught in his throat as Niall just smiles at him softly and fondly, continuing to massage circles in Louis’ skin.  Babe.  “Better?”

Louis nods quickly, Niall chuckling softly at him when he knocks his nose on the lid of the tea before blushing lightly as he continues to swallow, the taste of vomit still remaining in his mouth. 

“Told you that you shouldn’t come in today, babe, that you’d still be unwell this morning.”  Niall pushes the shaggy hair off of Louis’ forehead, tucking it to the side as he looks at Louis with fond eyes.  Babe.  “I’d ask you if you were okay now but you’d say yes, regardless of how you feel.”

Louis hides his face in his tea as he tries to argue that he wouldn’t, that he came in because he felt better but Niall just bops him on the nose and shakes his head knowingly.  “Perrie says you should have gone home earlier, that you’ve finished what you came in to do.”  Niall’s suddenly all up in Louis’ space and he’s never felt so _safe_ just being so close to another person before.  “Let’s go home, yeah?”  His breath is warm against Louis’ jaw where he’s pressed close and it should make him feel uncomfortable, the heat of it on his damp skin, but it just makes him dizzy in the best way.

Louis doesn’t quite know where home is exactly, whether it’s his flat or Niall’s apartment, but so long as Niall’s there and he’s able to lie down somewhere – _anywhere_ – he’s in.  Hence his nod of affirmation that leaves him even more dizzy than before and consequently causes him to tumble into Niall’s arms whilst Perrie coos at them and Niall runs soothing hands over his face as he guides him towards the staff room instead, telling him that he’ll be fine, that there’s no rush when Louis goes to apologise.

When he next wakes up it’s to Niall grinning down at him and his hands running through his hair again, fingers soft as they brush along his scalp.  “Wakey, wakey,” Niall coos, Perrie leant against the doorframe, watching them with an affectionate smile.  “It’s time to lock up.”

“How long have I been out for?” Louis mumbles, voice hoarse and the taste of vomit still lingering on the back of his tongue.  Niall’s thigh is by his face as he’s sat on the edge of the sofa and Louis can’t help himself from playing with the loose thread on the blonde’s jeans, Niall’s smile burning his skin as he does so, but it’s a nice heat, one that keeps him coming back for more.

He’s not really paying attention to the two blondes in the room, his eyes falling shut as he tries to keep himself awake but it’s not happening, especially not when Niall runs his fingers back through Louis’ hair, soothing him back into the sleep he just came out of.  “I’ll take him home.”

Louis wouldn’t argue, even if he was conscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, feel free to let me know:)


	160. Chapter 160

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I had an excuse I'd give you one but I don't, I'm just a rubbish writer and updater - I'm so sorry this took so long, it's embarrassing, really

Zayn’s on the phone when Harry comes in from work that night.  His voice is raspy as he speaks and Harry can only hear the gentle hum of it in the quiet of the Harry’s bedroom as he unloads his bag onto the kitchen table and spies Zayn’s key fob; Harry’s house key prominent between Zayn’s own house key and his batman key chain making him smile, dimples popping.

He knows better than to eavesdrop on conversations so he leaves Zayn to it, just pops his head round the door to smile at his boyfriend before he heads back off to the kitchen to make them both something to eat.

He’s got a pan of curry sauce poised over two plates when Zayn finally exits Harry’s room – really, it’s their room but he’s yet to pluck up the courage to ask Zayn to move in with him – the phone still clutched in his fingers and pressed to his ear as he hooks his chin over Harry’s shoulder, humming into the phone.

Harry leans back in Zayn’s embrace when their skins press together, Zayn’s skin warm against his own where he’s wrapped his arm around his waist, the heat from their food hitting Harry’s palms as he pours curry sauce on the steaming rice on their plates.  “Enough?” Harry whispers, ceasing to pour the sauce and Zayn nods, pressing a soft kiss and a whispered _thank you, Hazza Bear_ against Harry’s neck before he attempts to pick up his plate and take it over to the small table in the centre of the kitchen.  Harry can’t help the flush that litters his cheeks and the smile that breaks out on his lips.

“I know you mean well but now isn’t the best time, we both know that.” Harry has no idea what Zayn’s talking about but he leaves him to get on with it, passing Zayn a naan bread, warning him it’s still a bit hot before tucking into his own food.

He wants to ask, wants to know why Zayn’s eyebrows are drawn tight together but he can’t bring himself to interrupt him, to ask him when he’s humming little agreements into his phone before speaking so softly into it; it must be his sister, Harry deduces. 

As far as Harry knows, Zayn hasn’t seen his sister since Christmas and that was only because she turned up at his flat with a card and a gift, dampened from the falling snow, her nose bitten red by the cold and her long black hair doused in snow.  They’re not overly close due to their parents but she’s the only member of his family that Zayn will speak to willingly other than his younger sisters who he can only talk to when Doniya has them over; their parents refusing to let them make contact with him and are oblivious to the fact he talks to them through Doniya anyway.

It breaks Harry’s heart thinking about how Zayn’s been pushed away by the people that should hold him the closest.  The way he’s been pushed away for something he can’t help, nor change, that they’re unable to accept him for who he is.  He reaches out to squeeze at Zayn’s hand, entwining their fingers, letting him know he’s there regardless; Zayn smiles.

“They don’t want to see me, Don,” Zayn sighs, picking at his food with his fork as he runs his thumb over the veins on Harry’s hand, his eyes focused on where their skins meet.  “They kicked me out for a reason.”  He sounds defeated and Harry hates it.  He runs his foot up the length of Zayn’s leg, trying to make him smile; he succeeds, Zayn squirming away when Harry presses his toes into the backs of his knees, glaring playfully at Harry and he can’t help but laugh, grinning down at his food like a teenager with a crush.

“It’s been years since I saw them and that was up to them, not me.” Zayn lifts his fork to his mouth, grinning at Harry and sticking his thumb up at the taste of his food, eyes sparkling.  “I don’t know if I want to see them.”

Harry flicks his eyes up to look at Zayn, taking in the scrunch of his brow and how his lip is pulled taut between his teeth.  “Of course I miss them, Don, I just don’t think I want to see them after what’s happened already.” He steals a forkful of Harry’s rice off of his plate, grinning despite himself at Harry’s face, trying to soothe the harsh set of Harry’s shoulders and succeeding, heart rushing in his chest before his sister’s words hit a little bit harder, stilling the rampant thrum of it.

“Yeah, I understand.  Harry’s back now anyway, so we’ll talk later, yeah?”  He speaks calmly into the phone and Harry can only imagine what Doniya’s said to him, knows it can’t have sat right with Zayn if he’s giving her such short shrift as he is doing. 

Zayn cocks his head to the side, the phone caught between his shoulder and his ear as he listens intently before he chuckles, glancing up into Harry’s eyes, a laugh in his voice and a smile on his lips, watching him with an air of affection.  “Yeah, I’ll tell him, Don.  Talk to you later, say hi to the girls for me, yeah?  Bye.”

“Doniya alright?” Harry asks when Zayn puts his phone face down on the table top, starting to dig more feverously into his food, like a man starved.  His stubble has grown thicker on his jaw, making it more defined as he chews, swallowing carefully and smiling gently up at Harry.  He can’t believe his luck.

“Yeah, she’s good, told me to tell you that she loves you.”  He shakes his head fondly at Harry when the curly haired boy cheers happily, dimples popping and his eyes shiny and wide.  “Her and her boyfriend also got engaged the other week so she’s all up in wedding plans,”

Harry smiles despite himself, caught up in all of the love and affection that Zayn has in his eyes for his sister, the way he talks about her with an affectionate glimmer in his eyes despite all that’s gone on around them.  However he can see Zayn has more to say and silently urges him on, knows it will eat Zayn up inside if he doesn’t let it out.  “She invited us to her engagement party.”

Harry doesn’t quite know how to respond, but Zayn doesn’t look much like he wants to talk about it in great depth anyway as he chews his food carefully, as if he’s performing an art that requires intense concentration.  Harry knows he’s stewing on the information, knows the dangers of letting Zayn do that.

“Hmm, is that what you were talking about, then, the fact that they’ll be there as well?”  Harry asks, knowing the answer but making sure Zayn talks it out so that he doesn’t get lost in his head with it all.  He doesn’t need to speculate who _they_ are, knows fine and well who’s got Zayn’s back up. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Zayn makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, his eyes going far off as he eats, no doubt trying to work his way through his thoughts.  He’s quiet for a long time as he slows his eating, his movements sluggish and forced as he chews harshly on his food. 

Harry runs his hand over the tabletop, entwining their fingers to try and dispel some of the tension.  “What else did she have to say, anyway?  Did she tell you how he proposed?”

“She said he took her out for a meal and proposed after it,” Zayn says, running his thumb over Harry’s, feeling the bone underneath the soft skin.  “He took her to that little Italian place down the road from Andy’s house,” He waits for Harry’s nod of understanding before he carries on, seeing the shimmer of familiarity flash in Harry’s emerald orbs.  “And then they walked across town to that new housing estate with those massive houses on and he took her to the front door of one of them and asked her to, and I quote, ‘move into their house like she had his heart’ as she proposed to her.”

Harry can’t even contain his _awes_ or his excitement as he bounces in his chair, grinning from ear to ear, dimples sinking into his cheeks and his eyes shining brightly as he demands more information, Zayn grinning fondly before dishing out more.

“Oh my gosh, that’s so cute!” Harry almost squeals when Zayn’s information log runs dry, Zayn chuckling in response at his boyfriend as he squeezes his hand, trying to get him to calm down.  “Like, _awh_!  They’re so cute together, I told you it wouldn’t be too long until he proposed!”

Harry’s more or less bouncing around the kitchen by this time, picking up their plates and loading them into the sink before turning on the tap and adding some washing up liquid.  “How long have they been together?  Like 8 years or something?”  Zayn nods, leaning back in his chair to watch the excited grin on Harry’s face, smiling in response.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.  They dated at school, so yeah, a long time.” Harry’s hands are ducked into the sink, scrubbing at their plates as Zayn contemplates his words, picks through his thoughts.  “I’m glad he’s proposed to her, she deserves it.”  He means it, despite everything that’s happened around them, she deserves it, this little piece of happiness in her life to clear away all the shit she’s had to go through and deal with.

Zayn wraps his arms around Harry’s middle, resting his head on the dip between Harry’s shoulder blades, eyes closed and just breathing in the Cheshire boy.  “She really does,” Harry beams, looking down into the sink to check the plates are clean as he scrubs, Zayn’s chest comforting against his back where they’re pressed impossibly close together, knows he doesn’t need to do more than whisper now.  “She’ll also finally get away; it’ll be good for her.”

He feels Zayn tense up against his back but he doesn’t regret his words, knows that one of them had to say them and at least taking that pressure off of Zayn means there’s one less thing for the brown eyed boy to worry about.  Zayn’s parents have always been a touchy spot, something that they barely breach unless necessary; Harry knows how upset Zayn gets over them.

Zayn makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, burying his head deeper into the ridge between Harry’s shoulders, his hands rubbing soft and soothing circles into the newly toned skin there, his puppy fat more or less gone now and Zayn misses it a little bit, feels a bit insecure with Harry’s toned frame in comparison to his lean, bony one.

There’s a lot Zayn feels insecure about, really; his sexuality, his body, his smile, the list is pretty endless and it’s because of _them_ that he has these problems, can’t put the blame anywhere else.  _They_ were the ones that left him homeless when he didn’t even understand himself.  _They_ were the ones that frowned upon what he was before he even knew; his father always blasting homosexuals on the TV, looking at them with an air of disgust and throwing nonsense comments at their pixelated faces.  _They_ did this, made him the way he is.

This is why he doesn’t think about his parents, he gets too lost in his head; all of the memories and words spewing out inside of his head and messing with it when he dares to let them out.  They make him question everything he does.  They’re to blame for the badness in him, Harry’s the only good thing he has left, well, him and his sisters anyway.

He can feel Harry’s abs contort under his fingers as he dips his digits under the soft cotton of his work shirt, skimming his fingers along the warm surface of Harry’s skin, the ridges and rises of toned muscles and planes of skin making him question himself further.

Harry’s always had an air of maturity about him ever since they met all those months ago – it’s getting on for six now that Zayn thinks about it.  He’s always been the one to initiate affection and intimacies, always been the one that speaks first or suggests something to do, and been the one that’s able to fix situations even before they’re broken.  Harry’s always been the mature one, the one that’s certain within himself, and Zayn, well, he’s just not been.  He questions himself at the smallest of things some of the time and does the most idiotic things, like run away when it gets all too much; but Harry stays. 

He’s the adult, the one that knows and tries to understand.  He’s the man that Zayn wants to be, thrives to be, but his foundations have been knocked down and he needs to build them up again before he can even think of becoming like Harry.

Zayn will never have the happy, understanding family that Harry has and he understands that, can accept that, but Harry’s just always been _more_ than him.  He’s the one with the nice flat and the cool clothes, the broad smile and the knowing voice.  He’s the mature one, even if everyone they know classes Zayn as the mature one in their relationship.  Zayn’s just that little bit too broken to be like Harry, but he’d like to pick up the pieces and at least try to be.

“It’ll be good for her, to learn her own way a bit more and not be stuck in that house.”  He knows he felt lost without his own bedroom walls when he first moved, the walls of his bedsit too dark and dreary and unfamiliar to him but he felt independent all the same, and that’s what she needs.  “She’ll be able to do what she wants, think what she wants, she needs that.”

Harry hums softly, tipping his head back to press a kiss to Zayn’s temple, smiling softly before turning back to finishing cleaning the plates and leaving the pair of them in a comfortable silence.

It’s only when they’re climbing into bed later that night that the subject is broached again, Zayn’s words quiet in the dark of their room as he tucks Harry up under his arm, curly hair tickling his neck as Harry peppers kisses over his chest, kissing the numerous tattoos there.“We should go,”

Harry cocks his head to the side, watching Zayn for a moment before he understands what he’s talking about and it leaves him speechless, stuttered sentences slipping from between his lips as he tries to formulate proper sentences.  Zayn quickly shushes him though when Harry starts to say that they don’t have to go, that it wouldn’t be fair on Zayn.

“No, she’s my sister, she deserves for us to all be there.” He closes his eyes for a few seconds taking in long deep breaths, his voice quiet like a whisper in the darkness of their room.  It’s only 9 o’clock but neither boy can be bothered to stay awake any longer, the stresses of the week forcing them to bed.  “It’s her day and this isn’t going to ruin it for her.”  He takes Harry’s hand between his own, squeezing carefully so that Harry’s knuckles don’t clack together and hurt him as he kisses each of his fingertips before lifting his head and meeting Harry’s eyes.  “I won’t be the one to ruin it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments please let me know:)
> 
> Come say hi on twitter @Cant_Catch_Me if you want:)


	161. Chapter 161

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if anyone's still reading this, but if you are, I'd just like to say I'm sorry for my lack of updates. I haven't really got an excuse, I'm just a rubbish person.

Louis really isn’t well that evening.  He sleeps in the staff room for a good half an hour before Niall decides that it’ll be okay to move him, that he doesn’t look as pale as he had previously so he sets about loading him into his car and taking him home, Louis’ key slipping into the lock easily as he carries Louis inside.

Louis’ been asleep in his bed for a little over two hours when Niall hears the sounds of hushed moans coming from Louis’ bedroom, tiny little whines catching in the air before they’re clouded over by whimpers and catches of breath.

“Lou?” Niall whispers, peeking through the door and sitting on the edge of the bed, pressing his hand against Louis’ burning forehead, wincing at the force of heat that hits his skin as a response.  “You’re okay, shh now, calm down; do you need a drink or something?”

He’s not even awake and he’s shuffling under the covers, his skin red and hot to the touch as he moves, the dampness of sweat clinging to his skin.  He looks so helpless and Niall can’t help but feel the same, hates how he can’t help Louis, just has to let the sickness take its toll before Louis’ body fights it off.

Louis’ eyes flicker open slowly, his pupils enlarged and startling against the scarlet veins in his eyes as he opens them, his hair matted to his forehead and his cheeks crimson, Adam’s apple bobbing without warning.  He doesn’t speak but Niall instantly knows what he needs, tugging him carefully to his feet and guiding him across the apartment.

 Harry slips through the door of Louis’ apartment as quietly as possible to prevent from waking up his best friend, clicking the door closed softly to help limit the disturbance.

He expects Louis to be in his bedroom but he’s not there when he tucks his head around the doorframe and looks inside, squinting into the darkness to try and find his best friend.  He pulls open the doors all down the hallway looking for him but he can’t find him and it’s then that he hears the retching.

He hurries himself down the hallway, pulling open the little bathroom door at the very end of the hall and stopping short when he sees Louis’ body hunched over the toilet bowl and Niall’s hand rubbing over his back as he holds Louis’ shaggy hair off of his face.

They don’t see him at first and he feels a bit like he’s intruding on something when Niall ducks his head down and kisses at the back of Louis’ neck, brushing through his hair with his fingers and whispering sweet nothings into his ear as Louis groans into the toilet.  It’s oddly intimate, given the situation.

“He’s sick,” Niall says, voice tired and hoarse as he rubs at his eyes, keeping his eyes on Louis’ shaking frame as he speaks to Harry.  “He was up multiple times last night and has been unwell all day.”

Louis makes a whining noise and Harry’s heart breaks; he hates to see his friend like this.  “Did he go out drinking or something?”  Niall shakes his head, rubbing soothing circles into Louis’ back.

“Got a takeaway.” Louis says, his voice hoarse as it echoes in the toilet bowl and he coughs sadly at himself before pushing his head out of the toilet and facing Harry, looking as sick as Harry imagined he would.  “Tasted good.”

Harry shakes his head at his friend, laughing lightly and leaning on the doorframe, watching him fondly as Niall keeps his hand on Louis’ back.  “Did it taste as good just then?” He laughs when Louis sticks his tongue out at him, making a _blurge_ noise like a child, shaking his head.  “You want something to drink?”

Niall’s up in an instant, grabbing a plastic cup off the side of the sink that’s already got some water in it and Harry can’t help but grin when Louis smiles at the blonde all soft and happy, despite being as sick as a dog.

“Maybe it was food poisoning, then?” Harry says as Louis swigs the water before spitting it down the toilet, his forehead sweaty and his hair a mess atop his head, making him look impossibly young.

Niall looks upset at Harry’s suggestion and he doesn’t meet Louis’ eyes, just looks down at where his feet are clad in a pair of too small socks that don’t match, picking at the fibres as his cheeks flush. 

“Not your fault, Ni.” Louis whispers, poking at Niall’s leg with his foot, tipping his head back against the toilet and taking in a few deep breaths.  “It was still good, regardless of this.”  He’s got a small smile on his lips as he reaches out to tuck his foot under the meat of Niall’s thigh.  “Anyway, to what do I owe your presence, Haz?”

“You didn’t text me back, just came over to see you; it’s been a while,” Harry says, running his fingers through his hair as he watches Niall and Louis slink together, like there’s an invisible force pulling them together that Harry knew nothing about.  Sure, they’ve been close, Harry knows that but he didn’t know that they were this close.  He’s not sure how to decipher all the emotions running through him right now.

“Well I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better host,” Louis smirks, his forehead still damp with sweat as he teases his fingers between Niall’s own on the tile of his bathroom floor.  It’s weird, seeing this cheeky side of Louis, especially when he’s been gone for so long since the, well, incident.  But it’s good to have it back and Harry couldn’t be any more grateful, smiling despite himself at his best friend. “You want something to drink?  Make yourself at home, I’ll be out in a minute or so.”

“The last time you moved you made yourself feel worse,” Niall whispers, squeezing at Louis’ hand to capture his attention, eyes tentative but sure.  “Maybe you should just lay down instead.”

“I’m good,” Louis presses, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smiling widely.  Niall doesn’t look convinced.  “Honestly, I’m fine.”

“Lou-”

“Ni, I’m alright, okay?  I know you’re trying to help but I’m fine, it’s going off now, I feel better.  Thanks though.”  He reaches out, curling his hand around Niall’s waist and ducking his head to the crook of Niall’s neck, whispering softly, lips catching on the skin there.  He seems to suck in a breath before speaking, but the words travel regardless.  “I like you, Ni.”

Niall’s eyes go wide before he can control them, pulling away from Louis to look him in the eye, and if Harry didn’t feel like he was intruding before, he definitely feels like he is now, turning his head to give them some privacy as he makes his way out of the bathroom.

“I like you too, Lou.” Niall says, gauging Louis’ reaction, smiling timidly when he doesn’t look like he’s going to reject the affection and instead smiles stupidly wide and goofily before pressing his palms to the floor and crawling to kiss Niall on the jaw.

“Good, because if you didn’t, I wouldn’t be here,” Louis exits the room with slow, staggered movements then, his pyjamas sticking to his body but his skin looking increasingly rosy, the ghostly whiteness slowly slipping away but Niall can’t even begin to process that fact, not when he’s replaying Louis’ haunting words in his head.


	162. Chapter 162

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all okay and looking forward to summer:)

 Niall’s quiet the entire time that Harry’s there.  He barely contributes to conversations and only really speaks when he’s spoken to first but his answers are quiet and hushed as if he’s trapped inside his own head and it’s putting Louis on edge; he was fine before.

It’s nearing eleven o’clock when any of them look at the clock and see that it’s as late as it is, their chatting ceasing and falling dead around them.  “I’d better get off then, or Zayn will wonder where I am.”  Harry says as he tips his mug back a final time, stealing the final dregs from it before sitting it on his knee.  “I didn’t realise it was this late.”

“Me either,” Louis chuckles, stroking his hand over the thick growth of stubble on his jaw: he really needs a shave. “But it’s been good seeing you, we’ll have to organise something again.  I’ve missed my Hazza.”  It’s been nice, just seeing Harry let go, as if he’s no longer stepping on unnecessary egg shells around him.  It’s not as if he’s broken, not really anyway.

Harry grins, dimples popping as he pushes himself up to stand.  “We will, it’s been too long!  I’m glad you’re happy, Lou.” Niall’s eyes flicker to him as he speaks and he catches the small glimmer of a smile on the blonde’s lips as a timid on dances across Louis’ own, his eyes glimmering as they flick onto the blonde.  “I hope you’re feeling better.”

“I am thanks, told you I’d be fine, Nialler,” Louis grins, knocking his shoulder into Niall’s playfully, the blonde smiling despite himself at the action and it’s only then that Harry notices just how much brighter Niall smiles when he’s around Louis.

“You’re not planning on walking home are you?” Louis whispers when Harry moves towards the door after depositing his mug in the kitchen.  He sees the despair in his friend’s blue eyes, the horror at the mere idea when he turns to face his best friend and it’s then that Harry sees a slither of the new Louis; the Louis that no longer lives life in the moment but instead sits on the sidelines and surveys the surroundings before he even dares to pass a toe across the invisible line he’s set himself.

Niall looks concerned also, his brows pulled taut on his face as he watches Harry and slips his hand into Louis’, squeezing lightly to try and soothe the harsh set of Louis’ shoulders, tipping his head onto Louis’ shoulder and whispering into his ear that it’s okay.  It doesn’t work.

“I’ll drive you home, Haz,” Niall says, eyes set on Louis as he pushes himself up off of the sofa into a standing position, pulling his keys from his back pocket and sliding the key ring down his index finger, the keys jingling with the movement.  “Don’t worry about it, Lou.”

Harry smiles, nodding his head and asking if he’s sure, that he can walk home if it’s too much trouble but Louis shakes his head defiantly, his mouth set into a tight line as he tells him to go, that he’s not walking alone, especially not at this time of night.

“Tell Zayn I say hi, yeah?”  Louis whispers when Harry pulls him into a tight hug as he and Niall make their way towards the front door of Louis’ flat.  Harry’s hands are tight on his hips as he pulls him impossibly close, his head tucked in Louis’ neck.

“Course I will, now you keep him, yeah?  He’s good for you and you know it, don’t let your past ruin this.” Harry looks him deep in the eye before he turns to Niall, grinning.  “Ready?”  It feels wrong when they leave, Louis alone in his flat when it had felt so cosy just moments before but Niall and Harry are safe and that’s enough to stop him from going crazy as he tries to make himself comfortable in the one place he can’t seem to relax in anymore.

They  arrive at Harry’s house not long after quarter past eleven and Zayn’s stood on the porch, grinning at him with an easy smile on his lips and a glimmer in his eyes as he walks up the small pathway towards Niall’s car.  “Missed you, Haz,” He says as he leans against the car, the window wound down.  “Y’alright, Ni?”

“M’good, you?” Niall says, flicking off the radio and twisting in his seat to look across at his friend, noting the doe eyes he’s got for the curly haired male in his passenger seat.  “You heard from Liam?”

“Nah, he seems to have fallen off the face of the earth,” Zayn cocks his hip against the side of the car, his head tipped to the side in contemplation as he teases his hand into the car to entwine it with Harry’s own, stroking over the veins in his hands, as if intrigued by their presence.  “I imagine he’s lost in the sheets with that Alex dude.”

They all make a noise of agreement, laughing lightly about Liam and how far gone he is for Alex before Harry yawns lightly, trying to hide it behind his hand but Zayn catches it and instantly his big brother instincts kick in.  “Bed.”

“But Zayn, we’re talking.  I don’t need to go to bed yet, I’m awake, see.”  Harry groans, grinning up at the Bradford boy with a wide smile before he pulls faces at him to try and make him laugh and prove his point.

“Bed.” Harry pouts but Zayn just eyes him with a look of affection before he reaches inside Niall’s car to pet at Harry’s curls, the Cheshire boy leaning into Zayn’s touch and closing his eyes.  “You’re tired.”  He whispers softly, eyes shining with affection.

Harry can barely fight back, his voice laced with the beginnings of slumber as Zayn pulls open the car door and unbuckles Harry’s seat belt, lifting him into his arms bridal style.  “I’ll see ya later then, yeah?”  Zayn says, voice quiet as he positions Harry in his arms, careful not to wake the sleeping boy.  “You won’t go missing like Liam?”

Niall grins, reaching across the seat to pull the passenger door closed as he shakes his head.  “Nah, I’m not falling into anyone’s bed at the moment, I should still be around.” Zayn smirks at him and he knows he’s going to make a snide comment so he quickly winds the window up, flicking on the radio and flicking the finger in Zayn’s direction before he can say anything.  He can hear Zayn’s muffled laughter through the glass of his car windows; he doesn’t need to hear it any louder.

Niall watches Zayn carry Harry inside before he sets off back towards Louis, his lip caught between his teeth as he drives, eyes glued to the road as his mind whirls.  He’s not going to ‘fall into bed’ with anyone, most definitely not Louis, not yet anyway.

He knows there’s more to Louis than he’s already found out or been told and he wants to get to know those aspects of him first before that happens.  It’s a weird thing, how he wants to wait.  Normally he’s all for the sex, doesn’t hold himself back much, just goes with the flow and doesn’t try to prevent it.  But with Louis it’s different.

Louis’ the first guy he’s fallen for, for one thing.  Before he met Louis, as far as he was concerned he was straight and the idea of falling in love with a guy was such a strange concept that he didn’t think about it, never really had the need to.  Then along came Louis and there was just _something_. Something that untied those wires inside of his brain and made him _want_ to think about loving a guy.

Initially, Louis was just a friend, a good one at that, but nothing more and nothing less.  He was the quiet guy from Harry’s flat that had come out to drink with them that one time and barely touched his glass all night. He drank orange juice instead of beer and it was intriguing just watching him, not really knowing him at all but still feeling a strong connection to him in the alcohol infused air of the local pub down from Harry’s.

He was wearing a mixture of Harry and Zayn’s clothing that first night, the material too big on his fragile frame but it just suited him somehow, the ruggedness of it, how it was thrown together at last minute.  He was so thin though, his bones protruding from his skin and his flesh paper thin as he spoke, voice soft and cautious as if he was waiting for some kind of rejection, that was the only thing that hadn’t fit that night, that and the shiver of his body and quiver of his voice as he spoke.

Niall has no idea why he felt like he did that night but he’s glad he did.  Had it not been for the shake of Louis’ lower lip as he spoke or the blown wide set of his eyes then Niall would never have gotten to know him how he does now.  It was when he was at his most fragile that Niall was allowed in.

Louis’ built himself up since then, though.  He’s more open and smiley; he knows that what he has to say is important and that it won’t be rejected; he eats properly and he’s a normal size now and it’s such a _good_ thing to see.  Louis is just a _good_ thing to see.

Niall doesn’t even notice that he’s sat outside of Louis’ apartment with his hands wrapped around the steering wheel of his car because his head is just too flooded with thoughts of Louis.  How he’s snuck into Niall’s life like Niall has done his.  How he’s able to smile and look like he actually means it now.  How Louis is able to kiss him on his soft lips, a hint of a smile set between them as their mouths connect so briefly that it leaves a tingling on his lips.  How Louis says he likes him.

He’s known he’s liked Louis for a while now - known it for quite a lot longer really, if he thinks about it - but it’s always been Louis that’s put a stop to that.  He’s seen how Louis gets when there’s kissing on TV programmes and whispered ‘I love you’s’, knows that he freezes and watches unsure as the characters act out their roles.  He knows that Louis isn’t comfortable with close contact sometimes; that Louis needs to initiate it for it to be comfortable for him.  He’s seen firsthand how easy it is to scare Louis away by going past those limits so he’s tried not to.

But now, he needs to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:)


	163. Chapter 163

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all having a good summer so far:)

Louis’ still awake when Niall gets back.  His eyes are starting to droop but he’s still awake and it makes Niall smile, knowing he’s waiting up for him when he didn’t actually know if he was coming back or not; makes him feel hopeful that his feelings are returned, somewhat. 

“Hey Lou,” Louis smiles softly up at Niall from his seat on the sofa as he teases his jumper between his fingers, playing with the loose strands, his movements slack and slow as the early morning continues to drawl on.

It’s quiet around them, the gentle hum of a television in the flat next door the only noise filling the air, bar their breathing.  It’s oddly quiet in Louis’ flat, there’s no hum from the boiler, no drip from the leaky tap in the bathroom that Louis’ landlord refuses to fix and no rattle from the single-glaze glass in the window panes; it’s as if the flat knows, knows that the pair of them need silence.

“You not going to bed?” Niall says as he inches his way across the flat before he sinks into the sofa next to Louis, the smaller boy’s toes quickly dipping under Niall’s thigh.  Niall can’t help himself from draping his hand over Louis’ ankle and rubbing over the bone softly, feeling content when Louis instantly relaxes under his touch.

“Was waiting up for you,” Louis’ voice is sweet like honey and sticky on his tongue as he fights off the sleep that’s showing in the gentle flutter of his eyelashes.  He rolls his tongue around his mouth as if he needs to remind it of how to work.  “Didn’t want to lock you out.”

“I’ve got my own key, remember?” Louis cocks his head to the side sleepily so it’s resting against the back of the seat as he watches Niall with a look of confusion, skin a gentle pink colour, the white from early more or less washed clean from his face.  Niall couldn’t be happier.  “Borrowed it off you this morning to lock up.”  Realisation flutters over Louis’ features before he closes his eyes, his lips lifting into a gentle smile.  “You can have it back if you want.”

Louis shakes his head adamantly, despite his tiredness, peeking his eyes open slowly, the bright blue of his eyes coming out to make Niall’s heart hammer in his chest.  “You keep it; I like that you have it.” Louis’ cheeks don’t flush at his admission, sleep obviously too heavy set in his mind to care or notice what he’s said but Niall does and it makes all of his feelings for Louis rush at him all at once, hitting him hard and heavy in the centre of his chest as he tries to control his racing heart. 

Louis’ pliant when he’s tired as he begins to slip down the sofa to rest his head on Niall’s shoulder, his hand coming out to support himself on Niall’s chest as sleep begins to take deeper hold of him.  “Wish I’d given it to you though.”

It’s whispered, sounds almost like a light exhale but Niall catches it in the silence of the flat, feels how it flows from Louis’ lips in the heat of his breath and dances through the air in the most elegant way possible before it hits his ears, the tips burning bright at Louis’ words, the rawness of it.

“I’ve got it now, that’s all that matters,” Niall whispers, pressing his lips to the top of Louis’ head so that the smooth strands of his hair tickle his lips.  It’s sensational, feeling Louis so close, almost in reach.  “I love you, Lou.”

It’s a weak thing to do, he knows, admitting he loves Louis when he can’t respond and probably won’t remember it, but he does it anyway.  It feels right, somehow; saying it now when he’s finally figured out that now is the right time to practice it, to test it out on his lips, to let his feelings out.

He can’t remember the last time he said the words and meant them on such a deep, sentimental level, on a level where it’s not at all platonic and the words ring so brightly on his tongue that he never wants to see them dim.  Louis is the first in a long while, but it feels right.  Louis feels right.

“I love you too,” It’s broken up in husky breaths and whispers but it’s there, Louis’ voice running over the syllables, and if Niall could write sonnets, this is the topic he’d chose to write them about.  How Louis’ voice sounds like fine, expensive whisky running over rocks of cool ice, shining in the sun but never disfiguring, staying perfect and effortless in the battles of nature. 

He pulls Louis tighter to his body, trying to accept the fact that Louis may never actually remember their exchange of words but still tattooing it to his mind like the tattoos that Zayn’s got to remember Harry.  It feels wrong somehow stealing Louis’ words for his memories, though, as if he doesn’t actually deserved them and it upsets him to think of how he’s not the only one to have stolen from Louis.

He falls asleep with a frown on his face and the most beautiful boy in his arms, reminding him of all the good things that life can bring but just how easily they can be stolen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments please let me know:)


	164. Chapter 164

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what this chapter is really, I guess it's the corruption of Liam through Alex, but who's to say he's the bad one in this story...

Alex’s been round at Liam’s flat a lot in the past few months and his clothes have started to enter into Liam’s wardrobe.  Pairs of Alex’s socks getting caught up in his own and it makes something pull tight in his chest every time he picks up a shirt for work and sees that it’s too tight across his chest and has Alex’s initials stitched into it. 

Alex’s been spending the night for a long time, always walking Liam home and never leaving, sneaking his way into Liam’s heart without him wanting to prevent it.  Alex is just there and he doesn’t want it to stop.  Ever.

He’s falling hard, he knows, but that’s what he does.  He falls hard and he has to wait for his feelings to be returned but this time, with Alex, there’s no catch up.  Alex seems to be neck and neck with him and they’re steady, somewhat.  There’s no push and pull just a gentle nudge that they both follow.

“Do you even have any of your shirts at home?” Liam chuckles one morning when he tries to get ready for work, only to find that all three of the shirts he’s tried on have been Alex’s and the one in his hand also belongs to the dark haired boy.  “I can only find yours!”

Alex comes up behind him then, places his chin on Liam’s shoulder as he presses butterfly kisses to his neck.  “I’d rather call this home,” His voice is soft and sleepy and his fingertips are light where they brush against the bare skin of Liam’s hips.  “All the things I care about are here.”

Their relationship has grown a lot in the last few months, with their first ‘I love you’s coming into play and Liam’s bed becoming _their_ bed, whilst Alex has brought over random things, like his favourite mug that sits proud in the cupboard above the microwave and his favourite cologne.  It’s all moving quite fast in comparison to all of Liam’s past relationships but he likes it, how they’re both on the same page and understand each other.  It’s the best partnership he’s ever had with a person and he loves it.

Alex still causes butterflies in his stomach when he talks like that though; when he speaks cheesy lines that aren’t really cheesy at all but are instead completely heartfelt because Liam can see the heart eyes that Alex gives him as he speaks and the sure smile on his lips as he lets the words out.  It’s a lot to take in, that someone seems to love him so deeply, but he feels the same towards Alex so it just works somehow.  They just work.

“What about your X-Box though, that’s still at yours,” Liam smiles, leaning back in Alex’s hold so that their bodies are pressed closer together.  He knows the attachment he and his X-Box have, it’s an unbreakable bond.  He’s had it since it first came out and it’s got all of the original accessories with it, barely a scratch on its surface, he cares for it that much.

“Don’t need an X-Box when I’ve got you, Li.”  It’s quiet, as if Alex doesn’t quite trust himself as he says the words or he’s waiting for a negative reaction from Liam but that’s most definitely not what he gets.  He doesn’t really know what to do with himself when Alex says things like that, but he just goes with it, tries to take the attention away from himself somehow when he feels his cheeks turn a bit too dark for his liking.

“It’s too early for you to play with me,” Liam’s voice is completely innocent but the smirk on his face begs to differ as he turns in Alex’s arms, leaning against the wall he’s closest to before getting all up in Alex’s space.  “You can kiss me though.”

Alex just grins, stroking a piece of shaggy hair off of Liam’s forehead before pressing a soft kiss to Liam’s jaw.  “I’ve corrupted you,” He chuckles against Liam’s skin, his breath hot before he nips at it with his teeth.  Liam grins at the response he receives from Alex, twisting his hands around Alex’s hips to pull them closer together, feeling the ebbs of sleep still clinging to Alex’s body.

“Maybe,” Liam breathes, leaning into Alex’s touch, knowing they need to be at work soon but he couldn’t care less when he’s got Alex like this.  “But you love it.”

Alex makes an affirmative noise in the back of his throat, his eyes fluttering closed as he continues to work his lips and teeth down the strong lines of Liam’s body until he reaches his collarbones, sucking a deep red mark into the left one that has Liam keening.  “I love it.”

They’re surprisingly on time for work, five minutes early, actually as they slip through the coffee shop door and start setting up shop for the day.  There’s not a lot to do that day, Tuesday’s are always slow but Niall makes an appearance, slipping into the shop on his way to work to invite them out for a drink that weekend, if they’re up for it, saying he still needs to ask Harry, Zayn and Ed but hopefully it’ll be a good lads night.  They obviously agree, their hands all over each other, Alex’s wrapped around his waist as he leans on the counter.

“Anyway, I’m also here to tell you to stop being such a stranger; me and Zayn have hardly seen you!  It’s as if you fell off the face of the earth, mate!” Niall calls as he picks up the muffin he just ordered and his takeaway coffee.  Liam doesn’t question why he’s got two coffees, just smirks knowingly at him.  “It was weird, not hearing from you.”

Liam feels bad when Niall points it out, how he’s more or less abandoned his childhood friends in favour of spending time with Alex.  He frowns at Niall, his eyebrows furrowed as he attempts to say sorry before Niall is waving him off with a grin before he can even open his mouth. 

“Don’t you dare apologise for getting laid,” Liam’s eyes widen considerably at the statement, freezing in Alex’s hold as Niall just smirks.  “I’ve been waiting for this to happen since he started working here, so shut up Payne!”  He turns his attention to Alex then.  “The amount of times he made doe eyes at you, mate.  I’m surprised you never saw!  Was always watching you with heart eyes and talking about you.  Had him proper love struck!”

Alex laughs behind him, his chest bouncing up and down as he laughs loud and heartily without a care in the world before fist bumping Niall and waving him off as Liam sputters out a goodbye, cheeks red at the mere mention of his sex life in public.  He’s going to kill Niall.

“So, you’ve fancied me since I started working here, huh?” Alex’s voice sounds smug and his fingertips draw circles into Liam’s hip that have him melting at the touch.  “That’s a long time, Liam, I feel honoured to have been fancied by you for over 6 months, and I’ve always loved your doe eyes; remind me of a little puppy, always so cute.”

His voice is playful but it doesn’t stop Liam from hiding his face, ducking out of Alex’s reach and groaning into his palms.  Now he’s definitely going to kill Niall.

“Go away,” He whines, ducking into the store room to do a stock take as an excuse to escape the grinning man behind him but Alex gets all up in his space anyway, teasing his fingers into the belt loops of Liam’s work trousers.

“I don’t know why you want me to go away; I think it’s hot how you admired me from afar.”  His voice becomes a whisper as he moves his face to whisper in Liam’s ear.  “Was probably watching me all the time, never left me alone.  Just kept watching every time I spoke to customers, maybe even got jealous when I flirted with them for tips.”

Liam hate how that’s true, how his jaw used to clench just slightly whenever some nameless attractive woman would lean over just that _little too far_ with just a _few too many_ buttons undone over the counter as she ordered, dropping a few extra coins into the tip jar when Alex smiled at her just so with just a little bit too much interest.  It used to ruin his day, until Alex came back from the counter and teased Liam about his cup drying skills and swatted him on the arse with a tea towel or something equally as trivial.  Alex really just broke and made his day.

“You probably used to watch as I bend under the counter to get more takeout cups, eyes focused on me; that’s why you always used to burn your fingers, wasn’t it, Li?” He’s ashamed to nod, so he doesn’t, just keeps his head ducked and stares down at his feet instead.  “Couldn’t keep your eyes off of me, still can’t.”

Liam can barely breathe.  They’re trapped in the store room at the back of their work place during the middle of their shift and Liam just feels so _hot_ , he doesn’t know what to do with himself.  He can feel his cheeks heating up in embarrassment but then the huskiness of Alex’s voice has got him hot for much more personal reasons.  Fuck.

“But we should go back to work,” Alex says, pulling away but not before he’s placed a palm over Liam’s crotch and felt the stir of arousal there.  Liam’s cheeks flush darker.  “Don’t want to be naughty now, do we?”  Alex parts from him far too soon and his smirk settles into an easy grin as he smiles at Liam.  “Love you, Li.”

Alex’s gone before Liam can even nod, his brain frazzled and his cheeks crimson as he tries to sort himself out for the rest of his shift.  He knows he looks a mess before he even comes out of the store room but when he does, he just wants to scream.

Too many buttons, too low, too bent, too blonde, too busty.  It’s his nightmare and he still gets that twist of annoyance in the pit of his belly when he sees the woman leaning over the counter to get a better look at Alex and he just wants to scream.  That’s his, not hers. 

He calms down when he sees that Alex is watching him with a smirk, so he schools his own expression, walking behind the counter to take another customer’s request before setting off to make it, purposely pressing his crotch into Alex’s bum as he walks past.  Two can play at that game.

It’s a strange thing, is their relationship.  It’s the kind he’s never had before but the thrill and excitement of new things has him trailing after it like a love sick puppy, trying to keep up in the new game that he and Alex have set up.  It’s Liam’s new favourite game, especially when Alex sucks an unusually deep mark into his birthmark just before they return to work after lunch.  “Mine.”  And fuck is he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments please let me know:)
> 
> Also feel free to say hi on twitter @Cant_Catch_Me ,it'd be lovely to know who some of my Silent Readers are:)


	165. Chapter 165

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to say thank you to all of the people that have stuck with this story through all the crappy chapters and the rubbish update schedules, the idiotic plot changes and the absurd length of this monster because I don't feel like I thank you enough sometimes. I don't know how many of you will actually reach this chapter and won't have already given up by chapter 25 but I thank you so much for just being here and making me want to continue to write this.
> 
> There have been many times when I've just wanted to give up and delete this but then comments from you guys have made me step back and think how would you feel if I left this unfinished and gave up? You're the ones that keep this story going and even if you're going to stop reading right this second I just want you to know how much it means to me to know someone stuck with me this far.
> 
> I don't even know if anyone will read this but it's here and I want it to be. This is my story and you guys are my inspiration. You keep me going when I don't even know where I'm going and you make me so emotional each and every time I see I've got a new hit or kudo or comment. Just knowing someone took time out of their life to try and let me know how they feel, that they like what I've done or don't like this bit makes me want to cry because I couldn't ever have imagined that people would want to or get as engaged in this story as they have.
> 
> I'm getting really emotional now and you've nearly got me in tears as I write this because I'm just so thankful to all of you, my Silent Readers. There might not be many of you but even if there was just one I would carry on with this because I wouldn't want to disappoint you. I hope I haven't so far.
> 
> I love you all<3
> 
> Today is exactly 1 year since I set up this account and you've all shocked me with your kindness and brilliance so thank you, for letting me into this little bubble of AO3 and giving me have a little piece of perfection with you. It's been the best ever<3
> 
> \- Vicky <3

By the time their night out is organised, Niall’s already said I love you twice, his smile stretched across his face as his eyes shine in the dull light of the pub, glittering like a billion diamonds sit in his orbs when he watches Louis slip into the booth .

Each time he says it is different however; the first time they’re all wrapped up on Niall’s sofa with a bowl of popcorn haphazardly nestled between them, well, the bowl is, their popcorn however, is strewn across the room, the stickiness of the treat causing it to get caught in their hair and on their clothes as they throw it at one another, laughing manically.

Louis had looked like a child as they’d done it, throwing it with no care in the world after Niall had tucked some pieces down the collar of his shirt as a joke: Louis wasn’t overly amused, hence why Niall finished up getting popcorn in places that popcorn should never have to be.  But he also ended up saying the words he’s had stuck on his tongue for a while and hearing them back was magical, especially when Louis was the first one to say them the next time when they’d be huddled up in Louis’ bed for a lazy day and he’d just pushed himself up onto his forearms and kissed Niall like it was nothing, the words on his lips.

They’re closer and Niall hadn’t even noticed it until they get to the pub and Louis instantly ducks his head under Niall’s arm so that they’re pressed up against each other with barely any space between each other, but Niall’s not complaining, at all.

Zayn smirks at them whilst Harry and Ed smile when they see them at the booth, their bodies pressed together as they chatted between themselves waiting until the rest of their friends came. “Well hello there, lovebirds,” Zayn coos, cocking his hip against the chair closest to him when they reach the table.  “No wonder I’ve hardly seen you both, you’ve been too up in each other.”  He sounds so smug, as he wraps his arm around Harry’s waist, looking at him with a knowing look in his eyes.

“Zayn leave them alone,” Harry chuckles, pulling the dark haired boy away from them and dragging him towards the bar to buy their drinks but not before he’s throwing a wide smile Louis and Niall’s way, winking.

“He’s so embarrassing,” Louis whines, tipping his head into Niall’s neck before he composes himself and is grinning up at Niall, stroking his fingers across his jaw so that they’re looking at each other.  “I like spending time with you though, so I’m not going to say I’m sorry to Zayn.”

It’s one of the bluntest things that Louis’ ever said to him and it makes Niall’s heart hammer in his chest, ricocheting off of his ribs before bouncing back and rattling against his lungs: his chest’s a mess, more or less.

He’s not got any time to say anything however as Ed’s coming over to them, a girl wrapped up in his arms as he carries their drinks.  That girl is Megan he later learns as the night goes on, the lot of them chatting between themselves until Harry and Zayn come back from the bar, Liam and Alex in tow. 

“Look who we found,” Harry sing songs, dropping himself into the seat next to Louis and pulling Zayn into the one next to him as Liam and Alex set themselves around the table, saying their hellos before the night carries on the same way it started, with loud raucous chatter and bold laughter.

It’s only when Louis stills in his arms that Niall pulls himself out of the wild catch-up with his friends, the older boy freezing before his body goes cold in Niall’s arms.  “Lou?” The brunette boy doesn’t respond, his eyes wide in their sockets as he stares straight ahead, the blood rushing from his face as if he’s just seen a ghost.  A ghost that Niall can’t see when he runs his eyes over the expanse of the pub, trying to find the source of Louis’ horror.

“What’s wrong?”  There’s a funny feeling in his belly when Louis’ hand wraps around his under the table and squeezes hard, as if he’s enduring a pain that he can’t handle on his own and has to express it someway.  “Lou, look at me.”

He’s speaking in whispers, knows that Louis doesn’t want anyone to notice what’s happening even if he can’t voice those wishes right now, but he acts on impulse and just pulls him into his chest, ducking Louis’ face into his t-shirt so that he can no longer see what’s got him so worked up and desperately hope it works.

The activities around the table don’t cease when he and Louis back out of them and no one seems to notice so he leans the back in the booth, taking Louis with him so that they’re out of view of the rest of the table’s participants and hidden in the shadows that shroud the back corner of the booth.

“Lou, it’s fine, you’re okay,” He whispers, pressing his lips to Louis’ cheek where his face is hidden in the fibres of Niall’s shirt.  “You’re safe, love,” The endearment slips out of his mouth like an afterthought but he couldn’t care any less, it’s there and he means it.  He strokes his fingers through the shaggy strands of Louis’ hair, scratching lightly at his scalp like he knows Louis likes.  “Nothing can hurt you here.”

Louis makes a noise in the back of his throat that’s muffled by Niall’s shirt and he doesn’t know what to do with himself when Louis’ voice breaks like that, like he’s about to burst into tears.  “No one will hurt you, I promise you.”

Louis seems to calm down the longer Niall plays with his hair so he carries on, knitting his fingers between the strands and teasing his fingers through them.  “You’re safe with me, I won’t let anyone hurt you again, Lou.”

He presses a kiss to Louis’ head when the smaller boy starts to unravel himself from Niall’s hold, his eyes still wide but glistening in the dull light of the pub and Niall just wants to kiss him, so he does.  Right in the centre of his lips as passionately as possible with all of the _I love you_ ’s hidden within it that he’s yet to say.

He doesn’t want to pull away when he does but there’s cat calls and whistles from the other end of the table as Harry, Zayn and Liam howl at their embrace, making Louis’ cheeks darken in a blush, a timid smile creeping onto his lips that makes Niall want to kiss them again.  So he does and earns himself even louder wolf whistles and cat calls from his friends.  “Love you, Lou”

“Love you too,” Louis breathes when they pull apart, his eyes still closed as if savouring the embrace before they flutter open and his bright blue eyes come into focus, knocking the breath from Niall’s lungs.  “I love you too, Nialler.”

“Three cheers for the happy couple!” Liam chuckles from across the table, lifting his pint in celebration and everyone else follows, lifting their respective drinks and chuckling and cheering like the teenagers they used to be until they hit their 20’s and shit started to happen.  Even having Megan and Alex there seems to make it feel complete somehow.  Even if Niall doesn’t know them he feels like he trusts them with how they cheer at his and Louis’ relationship; but trust can be broken, can’t it?

The answer to that is yes.

Once the celebrations have calmed down and everyone’s thrown in their praise for Niall and Louis’ relationship they go back to their original conversations until their drinks run dry and Harry offers to get a round in, teasing Niall out from between Louis’ grasp to take him to the bar to ‘help carry the drinks’.

Said job leads to Harry warning him not to mess with his best friend and it makes Niall smile, knowing he and Liam had the exact conversation with Harry when he and Zayn got together and it feels good to know that Louis has someone that cares so much for him.

“I won’t hurt him Harry; you know that I would never do that.  He’s been through so much shit already, he deserves nothing but the best and I really want to be able to give him that.”  He hates how the words are true, how someone hurt him the way they did but he’s being honest.  He’d give everything he has to never have Louis hurt again, ever.

Harry smiles at him, all soft and fond before he picks up a tray of drinks and sets off with them towards the table.  “I know you won’t, Ni,” He turns his head towards Niall as the walk.  “Just filling my best friend duties.”  He’s laughing when they return to the table, spreading the drinks around the table and passing them over to each person.

When Niall returns to the table Louis instantly huddles up in his space again, resting his hand in Niall’s and tucking his head onto his shoulder.  “What did Haz want?  You were a long time.”  Niall can hear the pout in his voice and it makes him grin, teasing his fingers around the base of Louis’ glass of orange juice and setting it on a coaster in front of the older boy whilst leaving the other drinks on the tray for their respective drinkers to collect.

“Just warning me not to break your heart or he’ll break my face,” Louis’ laughing instantly, a bright giggle that has Niall grinning along with him, tucking his fingers under the hem of Louis’ shirt and teasing his fingers over the skin there.  “Y’know, the normal banter.”

Louis shakes his head at him, reaching out to sip at his drink, frowning when his scruff scratches against the glass. It’s barely audible but it makes him look like a little puppy anyway before he turns to Niall with big eyes.  “Do I look like a scruff?”  It’s hardly a question that requires an answer; Louis doesn’t look a scruff, he looks like Louis, so Niall lets him know exactly that.  “No!” Louis whines, pressing his head into Niall’s neck.  “You know what I meant.”

“Well if you meant what I think you meant, the answer is no, you look like Louis and I love Louis so I think you should stay looking like him.”  He may be on his third beer already but he’s not drunk, he’s telling the truth.  He does love Louis.  “But Louis doesn’t have to have stubble if he doesn’t want to, I’ll love him either way.”

“Stop being cute, Horan,” Louis groans, pushing at his shoulder playfully and consequently knocking him into Ed though he’s grinning like a fool knowing he put that blush on Louis’ cheeks.  “Doesn’t suit you.”

Niall pouts exaggeratedly then, sticking out his bottom lip and shrouding up into Louis’ space like a puppy that wants attention, more or less climbing into Louis’ lap but the older boy just looks amused as he hooks his hands around Niall’s hips to stop him from falling.  “You’re an idiot,” Louis chuckles, looking up at Niall and shaking his head playfully but he’s not complaining, especially not when Niall surges down to press a kiss to Louis’ lips, scattering further kisses around his face, making him laugh.  “Such an idiot.”

“Your idiot?”

“My idiot.”

That’s all Niall needs to climb off of Louis’ lap, dropping back down next to him and nuzzling his feet under Louis’ thighs as he leans back in his seat, just grinning at Louis because Louis is Louis and he loves Louis.  “I love you,”

“We established that, yes,” Louis grins, amused, reaching out for his drink and taking a sip before passing it to Niall.  “Want something that’s not going to make you talk so honestly, Ni?” He looks fond not angry so Niall shakes his head but takes the glass from Louis’ hands anyway before glugging some back and smacking his lips together at the tang of the orange mixing with the beer residue still on his tongue.  Louis laughs at him though, so it’s worth damaging some of his taste buds

Very few of his friends seem to talk sense when they’re drunk he notes then as he watches them all babble on about whatever it is they’re babbling on about and he knows he’s tripping over his thoughts but that doesn’t stop him from tipping back his glass to get the final dregs before he staggers off for another one, bringing back a lemonade for Louis. 

“I might be a bit drunk.”  He whispers into Louis’ ear when he sits back down as if it’s a secret but Louis indulges him with a laugh so there’s that.

“You might be, huh?” Louis chuckles when Niall fall into him, wrapping his arms around Louis’ middle as securely as possible.  “What makes you think that, then, hmm?”  Louis is warm but a nice warm under his fingers as he nuzzles up to him like they would if they were at home and had a DVD in the player and were lost in the fictional stories until one of them caught sight of the other and the film would be forgotten, each other their only necessities.

“Because I want to kiss you so hard right now and tell you that I love you beyond belief.  And because I wish I had been there to stop shit from happening to you and I want to be there for you forever.  That I can see forever with you and I’ve never seen anything close to that before, ever.”

He’s too drunk to know what he’s doing other than telling Louis the truth because Louis deserves the truth, he deserves all of the good in the world and Louis refuses to accept the fact that Louis might not get that, so he tries to give it to him anyway.  “Louis, I think I’m drunk.”

“I think you just might be, babe,” Louis whispers, stroking a hand over Niall’s flushed cheek and keeping it there as he looks into Niall’s eyes and Niall’s in love with Louis’ eyes; they’re so beautiful.  “But thank you.”

Niall has no idea what Louis is thanking him for but he melts into Louis’ embrace, his hand warm against Niall’s face and it feels brilliant, feeling Louis as close to him as he is and he’s so thankful, so so so so thankful that this happened, that he met Louis.

“I’m glad I met you, Lou.” Niall tips his head into Louis’ palm, looking up at him sideways, grinning like a fool.  “I think I should go home now.”

“Yours or mine, love?”

“Surprise me.” 

Niall feels himself get up to go but he doesn’t realise he’s falling into each of his friends arms until he’s there and they’re wishing him slurred goodbyes, doing the exact same to Louis as they tug him into their arms.  It’s a sight to see, his friends and Louis getting on so well, it makes his forever seem more likely, more real.  He likes it.

He takes Louis’ hand when they’ve both hugged Ed and Megan, tumbling into Zayn and Harry straight after before moving onto Liam, Niall pulling him in for a tight hug and a whispered goodbye before Louis grins at said boy and Liam pulls him in for a short but gentle hug also.  Alex is next and Niall wraps his arm around his shoulder, watching Louis and Liam affectionately.  “Think Liam’s stolen my man,” He giggles and then they’re pulling apart and Louis is looking at him with wary eyes.

“You ready to go, Ni?” He says voice uncharacteristically shaky as he starts to step back away from where Liam, Harry and Alex are stood back towards the front door of the pub.  “I’ll meet you outside.”

“You should probably go,” Liam says, leaning into Niall’s side, teasing his hand into the back pocket of Alex’s jeans as he watches Louis duck out of the pub, a shake to his hands when he reaches up to pull open the front door but Niall’s too drunk to notice or question it.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later, yeah?” Liam nods, fist bumping him before he goes, trailing after Louis into the darkness of the night.  “You not want to say night to Alex, Lou?” He asks when he’s caught up to the brunette boy, stumbling drunkenly down the road after him like a lost puppy and something inside of him is screaming because he promised he wouldn’t let anything happen to Louis again and here he is, drunk in the middle of the night where shit happens unable to protect the boy he loves.

Louis doesn’t respond, just teases his fingers between Niall’s.  “Can we not talk about him?  Please?”  His fingers tighten around Niall’s as they walk to dark streets, keeping under all of the streetlights possible as they walk home, not that Niall knows where home is anymore.  His home is Louis, so it’s wherever he is, really but he’s too drunk to try and make sense of those feelings.

Louis keeps flicking glances back towards the side streets, checking all of the shadows before he lets them walk through them all the way back from the pub, taking the longest route home simply because there are no alleyways and everywhere is lit up with streetlights.  But Niall’s too drunk to know that, the same as he’s too hung over the next morning to remember the horror that was placed upon Louis’ face when he’d wrapped his arm around Alex like they were old friends, couldn’t see the betrayal written across Louis’ features, so he’s clueless for as to why he wakes up in his own bed with no Louis by his side and no note telling him where he is, only Louis’ key and a short text from said boy that makes him feel sick to his stomach .

_Gone home, please don’t call me. Louis_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:)


	166. Chapter 166

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is embarrassingly long so I apologise! Hope it's okay:)
> 
> "There's a club, if you'd like to go. You could meet somebody who really loves you.. So you go, and you stand on your own and you leave on your own and you go home, and you cry and you want to die" - How Soon Is Now? (The Smiths) 
> 
> Andrew Garfield - you know who you are:)

It’s half four in the morning when Louis rolls up at his mother’s house.  All of the curtains are closed and his mum’s car is in the middle of the driveway as the early morning begins to roll on and the sun teases its way up into the sky.

He doesn’t bother knocking on the door, just sits in his car and waits until he sees the curtains twitching at half seven as his family rises from their respective slumbers and amble around the house.  But even then he has to will himself to unlock his joints from being sat in his car for so long and move up the garden path he knows so well.

Johanna sees him before he’s even gotten out of his car however, her body freezing with the shock of it in the kitchen as she pours milk onto one of the girl’s cereal before she’s darting through the house in her dressing gown to the front door and yanking it open before Louis’ even stepped up the third slab of the drive.

“Louis,” She breathes, ushering him inside when she notices his dishevelled state and blood shot eyes.  “Come on, get inside, you’ll freeze,” When she points it out Louis notices the chill on his skin, how it ripples through his flesh, reminding him of the cool bite of the early morning.  A single shiver runs from his head to his toes before she’s shutting the door behind him and pulling him into a hug.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” She mumbles into his shoulder as she holds him tight, her engagement ring still glistening on her finger, waiting for the day when it can be exchanged for a wedding band, making him smile.  “I’d have gotten something prepared.”

“I’m fine, Mum, so long as I’m here.  I hope it’s not too much hassle,” She shakes her head instantly, dismissing his words before she looks him in the eye, her own eyes holding the same stare that they always have; one of fond, exasperated affection before she thumbs at his cheek, her fingernail stroking at the black bags under his eyes before she reaches out and pulls the kitchen door closed to give them some privacy.

He sees that she wants to speak, to say something mothering and tell him how much she loves him to try and get him to spill but she doesn’t need to, not really, especially not when he looks into her eyes and sees the concern in them and his lips tumble down into a frown that he can no longer hide.  He needs his mum.

She’s holding him before he can even fall into her arms and demand the comfort and it makes him feel better in a way, knowing she knows him better than he knows himself, that he’s got someone but himself to rely on for a little while.  Someone that knows even some of the most intimate things about him, the silliest things, the most immature things about him because his mum’s the one who saw them first, but she doesn’t know everything and that has him clinging to her harder, his fingers curled into her dressing gown.

“Mum?” His mum doesn’t pull away straight away at the sound of the feminine voice, just presses a kiss to the top of his head and squeezes him before turning her head around to face her eldest daughter. 

“Yes, love, what can I do for you?” She runs her hand up Louis’ back like the best person in his life that she is because that’s what she is; the best person in his life, ever now.  “Louis, go on upstairs, love.  Get some rest, your room’s as you left it.”

“Louis is here?” Lottie asks, tipping her head to the side to see her older brother, smiling at him with her face free of makeup as she peeks around the kitchen door frame and she just looks so innocent that it makes Louis want to wrap her up and keep her away from everything that he knows he can’t but wants to anyway.  She shouldn’t know the world like he does.

“Louis is here!” There’s a chorus of excited shouts from the kitchen as Lottie’s words reach the little ears of his other siblings and the pitter patter of footfalls as his sisters run across the room and out into the hallway, crowding around Lottie to look at him with wide toothy smiles.

The last time he was here was for Christmas and that was almost six months ago now and he’s barely missed it really, if he’s being truly honest.  He’s just gotten on with his life back in London and not thought about how things have been here in his childhood home in Doncaster, but being here makes it that much more real, that bit more easy to miss and he feels it as he sees just how tall Fizzy’s gotten and how Daisy’s front tooth is missing and her hair is longer, how Lottie’s dyed her hair lighter and Phoebe looks so much more mature than she had done the last time he was here.  It makes his heart sink at the fact he’s missed out on all of that.

He never used to understand why his mother would want to see everything that he and his sisters would do, always interested in even the simplest of things, but now, he kind of gets it.  He understands how much it hurts to not be a part of someone you love so dearly’s life for even a short while.  Only he’s been gone for a while.

He can feel his sister’s eyes on him as his mother stays wrapped around him before she shoos him upstairs and all he can hear are the hushed _why is Louis here?’_ s and _his hair’s so long, he looks like Daisy_ and his mother shushing them and telling them to all eat their breakfasts and finish getting ready for school before they’re late.

When he opens the door to his childhood room he’s hit with a sense of familiarity that sweeps away all of the bad thoughts in his mind and quells the shake to his hands as he lifts up his duvet to snuggle underneath and sleep.  And he does, the very second his head hits the pillow.

He knows his mum will be there when he wakes up, no doubt will have a cup of tea in her hand ready and waiting for him along with a freshly baked cake because that’s just something she does when one of her kids is upset.  The last time he got to experience one of those cakes purely for him was when Nathan split up with him back in his last year of school and he was heartbroken for weeks.

“Afternoon, darling,” His mum says as she pushes the shaggy strands of his hair off of his forehead and behind his ear as his slumber comes to an end.  “I made you some tea,”

She hands the mug to him once he’s pushed himself up the bed and is resting against the headboard with her perched on the edge of his bed, sipping at her own mug as she leaves him to wake up and figure out what he wants to tell her.  She’s good like that.

“You made me some cake as well,” He grins when he smells it heavily in the air of the room, his stomach rumbling loudly in the quiet of the house. “The girls get off okay?  Not too late I hope.”

His mum makes a snorting noise in the back of her throat as she drinks her tea.  “It’s a tradition for the Tomlinson’s to be late, Louis, you know that.”  Her eyes look fond as she speaks and he knows she wouldn’t have it any other way, wouldn’t change them for the world.  “Would you like some cake?  It’s chocolate, just how you like it.”

As he eats he’s reminded of his early birthdays when his mum used to bake all of his birthday cakes and decorate them by hand, back when there wasn’t as many Tomlinson’s to feed as there is now and it was cheaper to bake instead of buy shop-bought birthday cakes, and it makes him smile down at his plate, savouring it.

They sit in silence for a while as Louis finishes his cake, getting in a mess as he spills crumbs down himself and his mum just rolls her eyes and tries to brush them into her palm and set them onto the plate she brought Louis’ cake in with.  “I don’t know, you’re 21 years old and you still eat like a toddler, Boo Bear.”

The nickname has a smile gracing his lips as she flicks her legs up onto the bed to pull him into her side so she can stroke her fingers through his hair and rest his head on her shoulder.  It’s familiar, is what it is, and he likes it.  He’s safe here.  Knows he’s safe here and that there’s nothing threatening here; nothing like there is in London, nothing that he doesn’t already have the answer to or know how to get around.

“I’m not going to make you talk if you don’t want to, Boo Bear,” She breaks the silence that he’s just noticed has fallen upon them and it makes him smile, hearing her concern in her voice but the sweet tone of her voice that’s allowing him to keep his troubles to himself if he wants.  She’s good like that, never pries unless she knows he wants to let her in. “But just tell me you’re okay, that you’re not in any trouble.”

“I’m not in any trouble.” He assures his mum, wrapping his arms around her middle and just holding onto her.  There’s pictures on his wall on the opposite side of the room he notices then.  They’re all hand drawn and blue tacked to the wall in a messy arrangement that looks like it took a lot of consideration.  He can tell that they’re done by his younger sisters when he spies the handwriting on the pictures, the labels for some of the figures drawn and it makes him smile, knowing that they continued to draw and stick them on his wall after he left home. 

 “They never forgot,” His mother whispers, her face pressed to his hair as she speaks, as if savouring his presence.  “They’re always in here showing you how they feel.”

It was a thing they used to do just to let him know how they were feeling when they didn’t want to talk to him directly or didn’t know what to say with words.  It was their way of coping with their parents divorcing and his mum having to take on more jobs to be able to pay the bills, the way they communicated their feelings between them towards her boyfriends and now, Daniel.  “They’re doing okay, aren’t they?”

“Of course they are; they’re all fine.  Lottie’s just finished her mock exams so she’s feeling better.  If you’d have come up a few weeks earlier she might have killed you.” His mum laughs and it’s the best thing ever, hearing that after so long, even if it’s not the best laugh he’s ever heard it’s a pretty close second.  “The others are all good as well, all ready for the holidays of course but they’re doing well.”

He nods along, wiggling his toes under his duvet before he shifts on the bed to give his mum more room.  They’re silent for a short while, the only sound the intermittent creaks of Louis’ bed as they move on the mattress to get comfortable.

“I think I’m running away from the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

It’s sudden and not at all what he’d been planning to say, not that he actually had a plan, didn’t really know what he was going to say, but now it’s out there and he knows she’s heard him because she’s pulling him into her side that little bit tighter and there’s no going back now.

“You’re not running away if you’re planning on going back,” She says, voice kind and gentle as she strokes her fingers over his spine in a way that only mothers know how to do.

“I don’t know if I can go back though,” He whispers, the images of the night before rushing into his brain at dizzying speed, how Niall had fallen into Alex’s side like they were old pals and had clung there as if there was nothing wrong with the situation.  Not a single thing.

He can still feel where the scratches were on his skin all those months ago; where they sat and ruined his skin until they healed, but even now that they’ve healed he can see them, knows where they all were, how they mottled his skin in scabs for weeks because he couldn’t handle having them there; seeing the evidence of what had happened to him. 

He can taste blood on his tongue, the muscle numb with the force of how he’d bitten so hard on it to stop from screaming that night, the shock still embedded it in, making it feel constantly strange inside his mouth.  Even when he kisses Niall it feels funny and they’ve never gone that far before – it just feels foreign inside of his mouth, like it should’ve been taken away that night; along with all the other aspects of himself he lost.

There’s not a lot of the night he can forget, but especially not the glossy look in his attackers eyes as he was held against that wall and abused, assaulted, taken advantage of, whatever you want to call it and that was the same look he saw last night.  Alex’s eyes glossy from alcohol, the clouds in his pupils hiding the pinch of humanity he must have inside of him and shocking Louis to the core, especially when he tucked his hand around the back of Niall’s neck and kept it there, his hold obviously light but there was still some level of power, superiority in the gesture.  Louis wants to throw up just thinking about it.

“Louis, honey, what’s wrong? You’re shaking, calm down, you’re okay.” His mum’s running her hands across his face, her eyes worried as he just stares blankly back at her, seeing Alex’s hands all over Niall in the front of his mind, blocking his senses from anything but that.  “Louis, look at me, you’re fine, breathe, darling. C’mon, there you go, breathe.  Deep breaths, in, out, in, out.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” He doesn’t know who he’s trying to reassure but he falls into his mum’s embrace anyway, letting her pepper him with kisses and affection as he tries to organise his thoughts and catch his breath.

The image of Alex and Niall isn’t helping him so he files that to the back of his mind and locks it away.  “Mum,” She meets his eyes immediately and he sucks in a breath that hurts his throat as it goes down, as if it’s knives he’s swallowing, not oxygen.  “Something happened.”  Her eyes go wide with concern.  “Nothing bad, don’t worry,” He hates himself for lying directly to his mum’s face but he can’t have that look on her face; can’t have anyone look at him like that ever again.  “One of my work mates was dating this guy and that guy hurt her, and he’s now moved onto one of my best friends and I don’t know how to stop him from getting hurt.”

She’s got a look of disbelief in her eyes but it drops when Louis carries on.  “The guy hit her and I don’t want that to happen to my friend but he seems oblivious to it all.”

“Are they dating?” His mum asks, tucking Louis’ hair behind his ear.  “You need a haircut, Boo Bear; you’re hair is nearly as long as Daisy’s!”

He leans into her touch; her fingers making his shoulders relax where he’s sat.  “Not yet,” He’s sure he sounds jealous but she doesn’t pick him up on it, just nods and lets him carry on at his own pace. “But they’ve been strangely close recently and he just doesn’t seem to see what he really is underneath all of the kind exterior,”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to because he’s in love,” Her fingers tease the straggly ends of his hair at the nape of his neck, twirling them around her finger into little ringlets that remind him of Harry.  “Love does strange things to you.  I mean look at me and your dad,” He frowns he doesn’t like thinking about him.  “We were in love and it made us run away from everything we had to bring you up.  It was crazy and we probably shouldn’t have run half way across the country when I was six months pregnant and neither of us had a job, but we did because we were in love.  Love does funny things to people, Lou, maybe it’s the same for your friend.”

Louis sighs, clenching his hand into a fist beneath the sheets.  “He can’t be in love with him; no one should be in love with him.” He spits out the words because they’re true; no one should love Alex, but Liam does and Niall does and Harry and Zayn and Ed and even Megan and it’s a bit too much, knowing they all love him when Louis has seen the other side of him, knows the secrets he’s hiding, the scars that he can leave, but he got away and Louis is too scared to try to catch him.

“There’s someone for everyone, Lou,” His mum assures him, pressing her foot to Louis’ duvet clad one.  “Someone in the world will fall in love with you the same as someone will fall in love with him; even if he’s got faults they can be fixed.  Everything can be fixed some way.”

Louis goes quiet then, his heart hammering in his chest as he thinks of how his skin healed once it had been ripped open and pulled apart, how each time his wounds reopened they closed again and became scars on his skin, marks that he’ll never lose and will carry with him for the rest of his life.  His mum’s right; everything can be fixed, but nothing can ever be perfect again once it chips or cracks or shatters.  Nothing’s ever the same again.

“Do you think I’ve changed?”

She tips her head to the side.  “What do you mean, Lou?  Of course you’ve changed!  You’re my little boy that’s grown into a handsome young man that admittedly needs a haircut and a shave but still has a heart of pure gold!”  She smiles at him affectionately before her eyebrows turn down.  “What’s brought all this on then, Boo?”

Louis shrugs his shoulders, shutting his eyes so he can’t see the faint lines of scars on his palms.  “Nothing.  I was just thinking out loud.” He lies and it feels like acid on his tongue the longer his mum sits there in his company, just holding him and making small talk until the girls get back from school and he’s free of her for a while as she goes off to make their tea.

Once she’s gone he feels like he can finally breathe again.  It’s not suffocating being around his mum but when she does stuff like this and tries to be there for him sometimes he feels like pouring it all out onto her would be the worst option. 

He’s been the man of the house for so long that he knows not to put unnecessary pressure on his already stressed mum.  She’s had far too much stress in her life, what with his dad divorcing her and running off with the younger woman he was having an affair with, and her having to try to take on more jobs to pay for the family life she wanted for her kids until the point where she cracked and couldn’t handle it anymore, breaking down in tears each time a new bill came through the door until Louis started paying some of them off with his own wages from the shop down the road and bringing in food that’s hit its sell-by date to help relieve some of the pressure she was under.  He’s had so much pressure on his shoulders throughout his life that he’s learnt to keep it there and protect the people around himself from it instead, even if it means hurting himself.

“Lou?” It’s Lottie, he doesn’t even need to look up to know it’s her but he’s surprised to see her face free of makeup and her still in her school uniform.  “Can we talk, please?”  She looks exhausted and he can’t say no to his little sister, ever.

He’s quick to nod, shifting on the bed so that there’s room for her and tucking her under his arm to bring her into his side, hugging her for longer than normal because it’s been a long time and he’s missed her.  “Missed you, Lots.”  He rubs his finger in a circle around her shoulder like he used to when she’d crawl into his bed all those years ago, sometimes for no reason other than needing to be in someone’s presence.

“We missed you too, Lou,” She says, burying her head in his chest and it’s then that he notices he’s been in the same shirt since he went out with the boys the night before; he must stink.  He wrinkles his nose when he smells the foul scent of beer and smoke on the clothing.  “Have you been to the pub?”

He doesn’t answer, just stand and roots around in his wardrobe for a shirt that might fit his skeleton of a frame, all of his clothes looking just a little bit too big.  He feels like a six year old dressing in his parents clothes and he bites down on his lower lip to stop the frustration from bubbling over and that’s only heightened when the word pub reminds him of how Niall had been curled up in Alex’s side less than 24 hours before, the image creeping to the front of his mind to wreck the little piece of perfection he’d let himself slip into.

“Lou, calm down.” Lottie’s behind him before he even notices her, reaching into his wardrobe and pulling out a big fluffy jumper that he’s thankful for.  “You look cold,” He just nods and pulls the jumper over his head once he’s stripped out of his shirt, trying to ignore the little gasp of surprise Lottie lets out.  “You’ve lost a lot of weight.”

It’s a simple comment, one that he would normally be proud to accept because that’s a nice thing to say, a compliment even but how Lottie says it has him curling into himself and burying his hands in the sleeves of the jumper and clenching his jaw, trying to prevent himself from blinking because he knows that the more moisture he lets near his eyes the more he’s able to potentially let run down his face in salty streams.

“What was it that you wanted, Lottie?” He sounds cold he knows but if he lets his voice change pitch or unclenches his jaw he knows he’s going to end up breaking down and he can’t do that, not now.  Not after everything, especially not in front of his baby sister.

“Lou, c’mon, please,” Her hand comes to wrap around his arm and try and turn him to face her but he shoots out of her grasp, yanking his arm from between her fingers the moment they come into contact with his skin, as if burnt.  He doesn’t miss the hurt look in her eyes but he can’t bring himself to care when he’s got such forceful emotions rushing through his veins and threatening everything he’s trying so hard to keep inside.  “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Lottie what did you want?” He turns to face her, his jaw clenched and unforgiving as he clenches his hands into fists and buries his toes into the carpet, cutting her off.

She just shakes her head at him, her lip caught between her teeth and her eyes looking extremely heavy as she drags herself out of the room before turning round and shutting the door quietly behind her before Louis drops himself down onto his bed and just buries his head in the sheets, biting at them to try and relieve his frustration as he hears the quiet whimpers of his baby sister from the next room over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	167. Chapter 167

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to apologise now for the length of time it's taken to reach this point because jesus christ this story is long and I don't even know if anyone's still reading to this point or not but here's another completely pointless chapter, most definitely aren't going to want to read this, nothing happens, like at all, it's so boring and rubbish and definitely not vital to the story at all!
> 
> Feel free to scream at me, I'm prepared;)

There’s not a lot Niall can do he knows but he tries it all anyway.  He texts Louis the moment he gets up, his body strangely alert because there’s not a smaller, warmer body next to him stealing the sheets.  It’s as if his body knows Louis isn’t there so there’s no point in staying there and really, to an extent, it’s right.

He gets no reply from Louis when he text him so he calls him instead just as he’s passing through his front door to go to work, holding the door to the stairs open for Mrs Jenkins from next door as he goes.  Louis doesn’t pick up though but Niall doesn’t blame him, if it was up to him he wouldn’t be awake either it’s just because he’s got work – on a Sunday no less! -  that he’s awake really, so he leaves a voicemail.

Said voicemail goes unheard so Niall texts him again whilst he’s on his break, Greg talking animatedly about the festival he went to the weekend before, but he can’t bring himself to listen intently when he hasn’t heard from Louis. The smaller boy has become a constant thing in his life and it feels wrong to not have him there now, like a part of himself is missing that he didn’t know he had.

That text is just the start of another four texts and two increasingly worried phone calls that result in voicemails when Louis doesn’t answer and Harry says he also hasn’t heard from Louis all day when Niall phones him.  It’s a petty thing to be worried about really he knows but he is anyway. 

Louis could be hung over and cursing at his phone to shut up as he tries to sleep off his headache but that’s impossible since he was sipping orange juice and lemonade all night.  He could be asleep which is a definite possibility but Louis always keeps his phone on when he sleeps just so he can be reached by his younger sisters at all times so that idea is quickly banished from Niall’s brain.  All of his ideas don’t add up and he still doesn’t quite know what to make of Louis’ note or why he left it in the first place.

When he leaves work that night he stops by Louis’ apartment and when he gets no answer he begins to panic.  He calls Harry to ask him again if he’s heard from Louis and he just gets the response he was really hoping he wouldn’t: no.

He bangs on the door for a little while longer than necessary but that doesn’t make him stop, he just keeps going as he continues to dial Louis’ number until one of Louis’ neighbours comes out and gives him a questioning look with the house phone in her hand.  He leaves right away then, dragging his feet all the way back to his apartment as he continues to call Louis, his heart hammering in his chest the longer his calls go unanswered and his texts unread.

The amount of dial tones he hears before they’re cut off to the answering machine makes him want to scream, so he does down the bottom of an alleyway just before he reaches his flat. 

The alley looks rough with a single lamp hanging precariously from the battered red brick, its bulb broken and the outer casing dangling from the wall like it wants to fall and end it all within the mounds of rubbish and grit and grime around it but he carries on, oblivious to the little nail marks in the bricks he walks past and the tiny splashes of blood that litter the grubby surfaces in the shadows of the night, just like he had done the first time he went down this alley.

Louis sits in his bed that day watching as his phone buzzes and light up with Niall’s name before it dies out and his voicemail picks it up.  He hears it even when he goes to the bathroom down the hall; can hear the buzz of his phone against the wood of his bedside table through the walls and it makes him want to scream and cry and laugh and groan because there’s just too many emotions there now.

He loves Niall, he knows that.  That’s the only thing he knows for certain but watching him with Alex made something twist inside him, something changed and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to see past that again.  Niall treated Alex like a pal, like someone he knew and trusted and maybe Niall _was_ drunk and maybe he’s overreacting about the whole thing but he just feels sick.  He wants to be sick, to get rid of all of these things he’s feeling and just start over.  Start everything over and forget every single little thing.

But life isn’t like that and his phone is still ringing when he slips back into his room and the same name is on his screen.  

Nialler<3. 

The heart had been added in the last few weeks when they’d been walking home and Niall had stolen his phone as he’d been texting Harry, tacking the heart onto the end of his own name with a bashful smile and rosy cheeks.  It had been adorable and Louis couldn’t help but steal Niall’s phone in response to do the same.  He hadn’t changed it back either.

He’s stood in his doorway looking at his phone before he notices that it’s stopped ringing and is just laying dormant on his table.  He continues just looking at it though, too scared of his lack of self control to move any closer to the electronic device because he knows he’ll give in if he goes to it, knows he’ll pick it up and answer it and he’ll just mess it all up.  That is until Zayn’s name flashes up on his screen.

It’s not something he expects to be honest.  He’s had Zayn’ number in his phone for almost a year but it’s very rare it’s used, to be truthful.  They normally only speak when they’re out together or meet up, it’s not often that one of them texts, let alone calls the other.  So he answers it, confused and worried for as to why the younger boy is calling him, especially so late at night.  He feels sick as his heart sits on the back of his tongue, preparing for the worst, his hands shaking as he answers the call.

“Lou?  That you?” Zayn’s voice is quiet as if he’s whispering into the phone before he hears the honk of a car horn in the background and Louis’ almost positive he’s outside somewhere.  That doesn’t help the hammering of his heart, especially not when he hears a siren.  “Hello?”

“Yeah Zayn, it’s me,” He says quickly, preparing himself for what Zayn has to say but when Zayn doesn’t sound at all upset or distressed he thanks his lucky stars and lays back on his bed, closing his eyes.  He’s suddenly tired as he nestles in his childhood sheets.  “What can I do for you?” he yawns.

“You can answer your goddamn phone, is what you can do,” Zayn hisses and he sounds frustrated yet understanding as he speaks, the sound of cars getting quieter in the background.  “Do you know how long Harry’s been trying to get hold of you?  Fuck, Louis.”

“I just needed to be alone for a while,” It’s a petty excuse and he knows that Zayn’s going to see right through it because that’s just what Zayn does.  He’s stupidly smart and a pro at reading people but he doesn’t give himself enough credit for it and Louis knows just how much that frustrates Harry.

“Yeah well you could’ve rung or text someone to let us know you were still bloody _alive_!” Louis winces at Zayn’s tone, cowering into his bed subconsciously because he knows he’s done wrong.  “God Louis!  Harry’s been calling and texting you for hours!  He’s been to your work four times today looking for you and Niall been looking for you for hours.”

It’s then that Louis is hit with the urge to go home. To go back to London and trudge into Harry’s apartment and get suffocated in one of his big, tight hugs until Harry’s muttered enough curses for his affection to come through and make Louis feel even more guilty than he did when he walked in with his tail between his legs.  He suddenly needs that.  He misses his friend. 

“Niall’s been looking for you for hours, he’s left a shit load of messages and voicemails on your phone.”  He misses Niall.  His heart feels heavy in his chest as he thinks of Niall, how he left him with no reason at all.  He just ran away because that’s what he does, he runs away and tries to hide from everything.

“I’m at my mum’s,” He whispers, feeling suddenly small in comparison to Zayn as he curls around his pillow, trying to be as quiet as possible so no one hears him.  “I just needed to get away.”

Zayn sighs down the phone, the traffic behind his voice increasing in volume before it falls again to next to nothing.  He must be walking somewhere.  “It was last night wasn’t it? Something happened last night.”

Louis’ breath hitches in his throat, trying to swallow past the lump that’s formed there and is choking him.  He needs to breathe, to get out the words he needs: no, last night was fine, nothing’s wrong, I’m fine.  But he can’t and he didn’t expect himself to be able to, but it just frustrates him that he can’t and that Zayn’s right.  It hurts that Zayn knows what Niall’s done yet Niall’s clueless.

“Louis you don’t have to tell me, I just need to know you’re okay, that’s all.” Louis’ lower lip starts to wobble at Zayn’s words.  He just knows.  He can read him like a book and he shouldn’t be able to but he can and Louis just wants to sleep and forget everything.  He wants it all gone because it was just so much easier when he had none of this. 

Back when it was just him and Harry he knew what he was facing, knew the dangers he needed to avoid and how to do that but now, his world’s so fucked up he doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know who he should let in anymore because things just change too fast, like the currents in the sea.  He’s been pulled too far out to sea and he doesn’t know how to get back now, doesn’t know where dry land is anymore and what’s safe and what’s going to drown him.  Everything’s so messed up now but he doesn’t want to change it, not really, not when he’s got Niall.  Niall’s the one thing keeping him afloat.

Before he had Niall all of this was just a mess.  He had no aim in life and was getting to the stage where he had given up.  He was almost kicked out of his flat because he lost his job because he couldn’t bring himself to enter a large space so working as a street salesman selling internet and phone packages didn’t work anymore so he was living off the tinned food in the back of his cupboards and staying away from everyone else with a pulse.  Niall changed all of that.  Niall gave him something to work for; something to live for and without him, Louis is sure he wouldn’t be here today.  Niall saved him but now he’s run away from that.  Now he’s not sure how fine he is anymore or whether he can be ever again.

“You’re not okay, are you?”

He breaks down then and he feels so weak, crying to his best friend’s boyfriend over the phone as he tries to muffle his sobs in his childhood spiderman pillow.  All of the shit he’s had locked up for so long in the back of his brain suddenly floods out and it’s there, right in front of his eyes as he relives the push and the pull, the throbbing and the pounding his body went through that night.  He can feel the blood on his tongue and how it had trickled over his skin in red sobs that he couldn’t mop up, couldn’t stop as his tears mixed in with them to create an ugly mess.  It’s all back and it’s blackening his heart, making him give up as he closes his eyes and just wishes his pillow would eat him whole and free him of all of this.

Zayn doesn’t leave though.  He stays on the other end of the phone with his comforting words even when Louis is being too loud to hear them he doesn’t stop.  He’s still there regardless of all of the _what if’s_ and _buts_ that flood Louis’ mind.  He’s still there and that gives him hope; hope that Niall can do the same.

“It was A-Alex.” Louis whispers, voice hoarse from his tears but he needs the words to fall from his tongue. He’s tasted their foul taste on the back of his tongue for the past six months and now he needs it gone.  The memories have flooded the vaults he set up for himself, so now the words need to as well.  “A-Alex did this.”

“What do you mean Alex did this, Lou?” Zayn sounds like a concerned parent and it makes him smile, hearing how Zayn’s voice changes so dramatically like that.  Harry’s always wanted kids and even if they’re nowhere near that stage yet he’s sure that Zayn would be the best dad to Harry’s kids.  Zayn needs to be the dad to Harry’s kids, he’s never seen Harry as infatuated with one person as he is with Zayn before. “What did Alex do?  Sorry Lou, the traffic is really heavy here, it’s too loud I can’t hear you.”

He sucks in a breath, the scent of home filling his nostrils as he does so.  His family are all downstairs watching TV, all huddled on the sofa together as they eat popcorn and watch a Disney film that Phoebe chose and it reminds him of all the good in the world, of all the innocence that can be corrupted and he can’t allow his sisters to be subject to any of that corruption. 

That’s why he takes that final breath that fills his lungs and says the words he’s kept in for so long because he didn’t have the guts to say them before or a reason he felt so strongly for before he came back here and saw his little sisters transform into the young women they’ve always been destined to become. 

He knows the badness in the world, what happens to young girls – it’s been shown in the newspapers enough times – but he’s experienced it first hand and just knowing that he could be the reason why they have to go through the same thing makes him want to be sick.  He feels queasy at the fact he’s the reason others may have already gone through the same thing already.

“H-He did this, he..” He sucks in a final breath, pressing his palm into his eyes to hold back his tears of frustration at not being able to do this for the most special people in his life.  The people he has a duty to protect; his sisters.  “He r-raped me, Zayn.  He raped me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative please feel free to let me know:)


	168. Chapter 168

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of swearing in here, just thought I'd warn you:)

There’s such pain in how Louis speaks that Zayn has to stop himself from walking.  He just stands in the middle of a zebra crossing with cars honking their horns at him as he tries to take in the new information he’s been given.

Louis was raped by Alex. 

Liam’s Alex.

“You mean Liam’s Alex?”

The harrowing sob and huff of breath is enough answer as it travels down into Zayn’s ear, blocking out all the revving engines and rough shouts of frustrated drivers in front of him. He needs to move, knows he does, he just can’t.

Liam’s Alex raped Louis.

“Lou, do you mean Liam’s Alex?”

He has to ask, has to know for definite what he’s dealing with because he just can’t function right now, doesn’t know what to do with himself when his tongue feels like a lead weight in his mouth and his heart and sinking cargo ship in his chest.  Everything feels too heavy, feels too much like the pain he’s already brought himself through that it scares him to death.

He hasn’t been raped before, he’s not even going to try and act like he has, but he knows how it feels to be beaten that way, to have someone show you no respect and just take and take and take until there’s nothing left to even think about giving.  He knows how it feels to be pushed into a situation where you can’t like yourself, but he knows there’s a way out as well; needs Louis to see that speck of light at the end of the tunnel, no matter how small it may seem to him.

“Lou, I need you to talk to me, please.”

He inches himself off of the road when he’s blinked away his tears of frustration and is sure they’re gone for good.  The cars all roar down the road in triumph when he hits the curb but he couldn’t care less, not now.  He’s stuck in the middle as he tries to work out how to fathom that Niall’s Louis was raped by Liam’s Alex.  It gives him a headache just thinking about it and his stomach whirls as if he’s going to vomit the moment he thinks back to Louis in the early days, as he remembers just what state he was in and how well he’s done to escape that, up until now.

“I don’t know what to do, Zayn.”

Louis sounds helpless and like a broken child who has had the worst nightmare of their entire life and lived through every single one of their fears.  It breaks Zayn’s heart.  Louis breathing is ragged and stilted as he sucks in breaths and sniffles, as if he’s crying and Zayn just wants to hold him and tell him everything will be okay.

“Lou, you’re okay, honestly.  I’m coming over, okay?” He turns his head to look out down the roads before he crosses but he barely registers if there’s anything coming or not and just steps out, his phone pressed to his ear and the chill of the night biting at his exposed flesh.  He’s not hit by any vehicles so he must be fine.  “I’m coming to your flat, you’re okay.” 

“I’m not there, I’m in Doncaster,” Louis chokes out before sucking in a calming breath and breathing heavily down the phone.  “I’m at my mum’s.”

Zayn stops on the first street corner he hits, leaning against the wall and looking out at the bright lights of the city that just feel so far off right now.  He hasn’t got time for all the glitz and the glamour of London when he’s trying to soothe his friend all the way up in Doncaster.  “What are you doing up there?  When did you leave?  You were here just 24 hours ago.”  He runs his hands through his hair, tugging harshly as he tries to think and sort his thoughts.

“Left last night,” Louis breathes.  “Got here this morning and slept at mum’s.”

“Harry’s going to kill you for going home alone,” Zayn chuckles, smiling at the thought of the younger boy.  “He’s been planning on going back for a while, just been waiting for some time off.”  He’s not intentionally trying to change the conversation; he just doesn’t know quite what to do now.

Louis lets out a half-hearted laugh at that, the ruffling of sheets echoing down the phone and into Zayn’s ear.  “He’s alright isn’t he?  Harry I mean.”

Zayn breaths out a laugh. “Worried about you, you numpty but other than that he’s fine.  Recovering from his hangover, that's all.”  The bright lights of a police car flash by him as it soars down the road at top speed, leaving him momentarily blinded and deafened by the shrill of its sirens, startling him back into the present situation at hand.  “Lou, have you told the police this?”

The older boy goes silent on the other end of the phone, no breathing or anything travelling down the line, as if he’s disconnected the call but it’s still there, it’s still connected.  “Lou, you don’t have to, I was just asking.  You don’t even have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“N-no,” Zayn’s phone buzzes in his palm as Louis speaks – probably a text from Harry asking him where he is.  “No one knows, I couldn’t tell them.”  He sounds scared and worried before his breathing picks up again.  “I c-couldn’t tell them, Zayn!” He sobs, breath hitching all over the place, pitchy and broken before it dies down into a hoarse whisper.  “I couldn’t tell them.”

“Louis,” Zayn starts before he thinks better of it; clenching his hands into fists by the side as he tries to control his anger.  He can see the sign for the coffee shop that Liam and Alex work at just down the other end of the street, the door shut and the rafters down, barricading it shut for the night until it buzzes to life again tomorrow morning.  “Louis it’s okay, you’re okay.  You can beat this, I know you can.  You’re so strong, Lou.  You can do it.”

“B-but what if I can’t, Zayn?”  He cries, his voice muted as if he’s fallen face first into a pile of pillows before it increases in volume again.  “I’ve left so many people in the firing line because I’m a c-coward.  I couldn’t tell the p-police who it was because I-I was scared.  Too scared to do anything b-but h-hide away.  I’m a coward!”

His heart breaks being on this side of the conversation.  He’s been on the other side before and it hurt over there but this side just causes an immeasurable amount of pain in his chest, like he’s drowning with no way of survival, no way to escape the hurt and heart ache as he hears Louis’ pitiful breaths and remorseful sobs.  It hurts because he knows he can’t do anything to stop it until Louis agrees to help himself.

“Lou, you’ve got to tell them.  You’ve got to tell the police who attacked you.” Louis sucks in a breath that makes even Zayn squirm uncomfortably.  “You can’t help anyone else until you help yourself and this is the only way to do it.”

“I’m too weak, Zayn!” _You’re not Louis_! he wants to scream but Louis leaves no room for his comment.  “I’m a fucking coward and I _can’t_!”  _You’re nothing like a coward; you’re the bravest person I know._   “I’m not like you, Zayn!”  He winces at the venom that Louis spits along with his name.  “I can’t just bounce back from the shit that’s happened in my life, like you can!  I’m broken, okay?  I’m fucking broken and there’s no way to fix that; _no one_ can fix that.  I haven’t got a Harry that can come along and put me back together again because I’m a reject, okay?  A fucking reject!  I run away from everything and lose pieces of myself along the way.  I’m too messed up to be put back together now and telling the police isn’t going to help that at all!  It’ll just hurt more!”

He stammers out a breath as if he’s calming down and Zayn opens his mouth to speak, to tell him that’s not true, that none of that is true but he’s cut off as Louis starts again.  “You don’t have a clue, Zayn, no bloody clue.  You’re all fixed now and that’s good, okay?  That’s goddamn fucking amazing but I’m not and I never will be, so stop trying to get it into my mind that I can be.”  His voice is hoarse and broken by the time he’s said his final word.  “I’m messed up Zayn and _no one_ can fix that, _no one_ can look past that.”

The phone goes dead then, the call ending with a final click that shudders its way down Zayn’s spine to his very core and leaves him feeling spaced out and confused. 

Louis’ words echo in his mind, ringing and bouncing in his head as he tries to work through them, to understand and put himself back into the mindset that he banned himself from months ago, the one Harry worked him out of.  Slipping back into his old though patterns has him breathing raggedly as he relives all of what he went through and how it affected him and it’s only then that he can understand Louis, can see just why it hurts the way it does for Louis.  He understands why Louis feels how he does, because Louis thinks that no one understands him anymore.

_‘Niall loves you Louis and if you think he can’t ‘look past’ everything you’ve been through then you obviously don’t see him for who he is and what he’s worth.  He loves you Lou and I know that he would put you back together again in a heartbeat, even if you don’t believe that.  You can’t lock yourself up like you are doing when he’s fully prepared to bust you out.  It’s not just yourself you’re hurting Lou, check your voicemail and messages if you don’t believe me. He’s ready for you; you just need to be ready for him.’_

He presses send instantly, pushing the mixture of thoughts to the back of his mind before heading home to the best thing he has in his entire life, grinning at the message Harry sent him of a batch of cookies with the caption ‘before or after dinner?;)’.  He loves that boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	169. Chapter 169

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to thank you guys for sticking with me and leaving kudos and especially comments - you guys make me want to update so thank you<3 It might not seem like much but you're words do make a difference. Thank you so much, hope you enjoy:)

Their night in has been lovely, the pair of them sat and ate dinner together followed by almost all of the cookies Harry had baked that day after he’d found his headache had shrivelled into little more than a nagging at the back of his head.  Now though, it’s stilted, come to a halt as Zayn reads his phone.

He’s been looking at it for a while, always checking it throughout the night and Harry hadn’t let it get to him, told himself to ignore it and Zayn would tell him when he was ready but it’s just starting to annoy him now, knowing Zayn’s keeping something from him.

“Zee, what’s up?” He says as he leans into the older boy’s side, resting his head on his shoulder as he keeps his eyes on the TV, watching the programme on screen but not acknowledging it.  Zayn doesn’t answer immediately, just clicks his phone locked and shifts on the sofa. 

“Just distracted is all,” He says, tucking his phone back into the pocket of his sweats but Harry knows it will be back out in a matter of minutes: it’s been the same way all evening.  Zayn’s hand clenches into a fist in front of himself and tenses his jaw before slackening it.  Harry doesn’t notice.  “Thinking about Louis, I guess.”

“I rang Jo and she says he’s fine, he just went up there to get away for a bit.”  He squeezes his arms around Zayn’s waist to try and get him to relax, can see something is bothering the Bradford boy but doesn’t know what it is or how to deal with it.  “He was asleep when I called so she said she’ll get him to call back when he wakes up.  There’s nothing to be worried about, Zee.”

Zayn makes a non-committal noise in the back of his throat before he pulls Harry deeper into his side, tucking the curly haired boy’s face into his chest and just breathing him in.  “He shouldn’t be there, though.”

“What do you mean, Zee?” Harry asks, pushing himself out of Zayn’s embrace to look up into his eyes.  Zayn looks startled, as if he hadn’t expect Harry to hear his whisper and his eyes dart away to look across the room over Harry’s shoulder instantly before he shrugs, trying to lay Harry back down.  “No, what did you mean?” Harry demands, pushing himself out of Zayn’s grasp so that he can sit up right and look him in the eye.  Zayn’s eyes look hurt as he pushes him away but he doesn’t acknowledge it: he hates being lied to, especially when it comes from Zayn.

Zayn doesn’t answer, just looks like a kicked puppy instead and it frustrates Harry to know that Zayn doesn’t trust him with something.  So he gets up and he storms into his bedroom, emotions and the final dregs of a hangover making his decision for him, whether it’s the one he wants or not.

“Haz, come on, please don’t do that,” Zayn begs as he trails after Harry, his footsteps speeding up the closer Harry get to the bedroom before his hands hit the door when Harry closes it on his face.  He can’t be doing with Zayn right now, not if Zayn isn’t going to play fair and acknowledge the fact that he can’t string him along like he is doing anymore, especially not when they’ve already worked through this.

“Haz, please!” Zayn groans when Harry locks the door, shifting to sit on the bed and bury his face in the pillows on Zayn’s side, just needing to have a feeling that Zayn’s there for him, even if he isn’t right now. He hates having to acknowledge that fact.

Nothing makes sense and that’s what pisses Harry off most.  They’ve found Louis, know where he is and that he’s safe and yet Zayn is in his most scared and confusing state.  When they had no idea where he was he was the one keeping his cool, convincing Harry to wait for him to contact them.  He’d been the adult in the situation.  But now, he’s being more immature than Harry was.

He’s closed himself off and Harry hates that; hates knowing that there are thoughts locked up there in Zayn’s pretty little head that will drive him crazy.  Thoughts and feelings and emotions and ideas that will build and build and build until they don’t fit anymore and they have to demolish the good that’s already set up within Zayn’s mind.  He’s seen it before, watched how Zayn can go from fixed to broken in a matter of seconds if he’s left to stew over his thoughts; knows he brews over until there’s no turning back and fingers get burnt.

“Harry, please.” He’s been begging for a while now, asking Harry to come out so they can talk and it’s a good sign, Harry knows, shows he’s still there, still cares but it just frustrates him to try and work through it right now.  If he truly wanted to talk he’d have spoken before he was made to.

“You don’t want to talk, Zayn!” He shouts, knowing Zayn can hear him whether he whispers or screams but he just needs to let some of the emotions he’s feeling out.  “You just can’t handle me being mad at you!”

They weren’t the right words to say, he knows, but he says them anyway and doesn’t apologise at all, feeling far too exposed as he wipes tears off of his cheeks to even think about changing them and saying he’s sorry.  Because in a way, he’s not sorry at all.

They’re words he’s had packed up and stored away for a while, only not in this context.  Zayn can’t handle it when Harry turns on him, doesn’t know how to react other than to cower when people treat him how his parents had treated him and it shoos him back into the shell that Harry’s worked so hard to get him out of, but now, he just can’t think, can’t think of the potential outcomes of his outburst.

He knows something’s wrong and he’s more than certain that it’s got something to do with Louis and that’s what’s got him on edge as he scoots down the bed to perch on the end of it opposite the door.  “You’re not telling me something and I know it, Zayn.”

There’s a huff of breath on the other side of the door and the gentle bang of Zayn’s head hitting the door before he shuffles down it to sit on the floor with his back against the door before he lets out a defeated breath.  “I can’t tell you, Haz.”

He hears the buzz of Zayn’s phone outside of the door and it riles him up further.  “Can’t or won’t?”  He spits it like venom on his tongue and he can feel Zayn flinch on the other side of the door.  He doesn’t know what’s wrong with himself at the minute; he’s just so strung up for no particular reason and he’s just blasting it all straight at Zayn.  He doesn’t deserve it but he can’t seem to stop himself.

“Can’t,” Zayn says, the click of his phone locking loud in the otherwise quiet apartment.  “Look, it’s not my secret to tell and I refuse to break their trust.  It’s been broken too many times already.”

He sounds stressed and on edge but Harry just can’t help the anger he still feels towards his boyfriend.  He can’t remember the last time they fought and he’s glad because he doesn’t think he could live with himself being able to remember another moment like this one.  He feels sick to his core already, like every snide comment or slashing comment is poisoning himself, his other half.

“You’re talking about Louis, aren’t you?” Tears prick at his eyes when he joins all the dots that Zayn’s left out, matches all of the puzzle pieces together and finds the big fat x right in the middle of the map and he wants to vomit.  He wipes away a tear before Zayn even answers his question with a staggered breath.

They sit in silence, then, on opposite sides of the same room as they work through their own individual thoughts before Harry can suck in enough breath to ask what it is he can’t be told.  “That’s Lou’s secret, Haz.  I can’t tell you, you know that.”

Harry sniffles as he chews on his lip, trying to work through all of his thoughts.  “He’s okay though, yeah?” His voice breaks on a hiccup that has him forcing back his words.  “You spoke to him and he’s alright, isn’t he?”

“Haz let me in,” Zayn sighs, the door handle rattling to check Harry hasn’t left it unlocked.  “I can’t let you cry on your own, not when I’m here to wipe away your tears.”

He smiles at Zayn’s attempt to be cute and scolds him for it as he twists the lock, leaving the door closed as he stands behind it.  Zayn laughs at him, apologising for his words because that’s just the sort of lovely person he is.  “Zayn?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He croaks, leaning his head against the wood of the door as he tries to settle his breathing, Zayn on the other side trying to calm him down as well.  “I love you and I swear to God if I treat you like shit or don’t see you for how bloody amazing you are I need testing because you’re just, wow,” He sucks in a breath as he teases his fingers around the door handle, ready to pull it open. 

When he does he’s met with the honest eyes of the boy he fell in love with almost a year ago in the middle of a bakery in the pouring rain and yeah, Zayn deserves better than that little cliché but he wouldn’t change any of it for the entire world.  “Yeah, wow you’re you and that’s priceless.  I don’t deserve you, I really don’t.”

“I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you, Hazza Bear,” Zayn whispers as he pulls Harry close, wrapping him up in his arms and rocking them from side to side as Harry tries to slow his tears and Zayn wipes them away with the soft tips of his thumbs.  “You’re more than I could have dreamt of and you’re all mine and I’m all yours.  You’re never getting rid of me, like, ever.”

Harry chuckles at the way Zayn pitches his voice to sound like an American school girl, brushing his hands through Harry’s hair as they sway in the middle of the doorway, the TV still playing in the other room and the alarm clock on Harry’s side of the bed ticking closer and closer to midnight.

“I love you, Hazza Bear,” Zayn whispers as he presses his lips to Harry’s eyes to rid them of any unshed tears and the runaway drops that hang precariously in his eyelashes.  He squeezes Harry tightly, tucking his hands under the hem of Harry’s pyjama top to feel the smooth skin of his lower back, dipping his fingers into the dimples at the base of his spine before he shuffles them towards the bed.  “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Bradford Bad Boi,” Zayn cringes at the nickname, hiding his face in Harry’s chest as they lower themselves onto the bed, his cheeks alive with a crimson tinge as he whines at Harry to stop it, pinching at his sides playfully to stop him from saying it again.

They calm down not much later, the pair of them breathless as they shuffle closer together under the sheets, skin pressed together in the best contrast ever seen as they lick slowly and carefully into the others mouth.  Sleep is on the horizon, doesn’t mean they have to follow it.

“It’s not too bad, is it?”  Zayn turns his head towards Harry.  He thought the younger boy had fallen asleep but he looks pretty awake now as he leans on his elbow, eyes gentle but alive as he speaks before falling silent, awaiting Zayn’s answer.

He doesn’t know what to say to that.  He knows what Harry’s asking him, knows he’s talking about Louis but he doesn’t know what to classify Louis’ secret as.  Is it bad?  Well, obviously it is, he was raped, Zayn understands that but the fact that it was Alex that did it – is that a bad thing?  He’s too overwhelmed by having Harry in his arms on the cusp of sleep to think too much into it, so he closes his eyes, shaking his head.  “Night, Hazza Bear,”

“Night, Bradford Bad Boi,” He can’t be bothered to complain when Harry’s curled up into his chest like he has done so he just shuts his eyes and lets the promise of waking up next to Harry carry him off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	170. Chapter 170

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You were looking for fluff, Mr Garfield, so here is fluff:)

Louis has to bite his lip to stop himself from crying.  There are still tears in his eyes but he refuses to let them fall, especially over something as trivial as this.  He knows that Zayn’s right, that he needs to tell the police, even if it’s confidentially, but just the thought of doing that makes his stomach lurch.

He’s lived with it for so long, has known that Liam and Harry and Zayn and Niall all know Alex and get along with him and he had, to some extent, accepted that.  Alex doesn’t look as if he remembers doing what he did anyway and that’s been more than enough to help calm Louis’ nerves around him, most of the time at least. 

But after watching Niall hang off of him like a best buddy last night he can’t stomach even the thought of letting it carry on.  Alex may not remember what he’d done but the thoughts are still there, nestled into his mind, all he needs is a little push and who knows when he’ll do it again.  It’s like with murderers, there’s no turning back once you’ve had blood on your hands.  Leopards don’t change their spots.

That’s a lesson his mother taught him.  She taught him that people don’t change and if they do, they need to be watched with a careful eye because no one can rid themselves of the sins and lies they’ve produced.  No one.

His mother also taught him to stick up for himself, hence why he’s never let his sexuality get to him.  He is who he is and he wouldn’t change that for anyone.  It was that belief that got him through school and helped Harry do the same as they worked out what they felt towards the other boys in their locker room and why they didn’t feel the same for the girls in their tight PE shirts and shorts.   And he’ll be damned if he stops himself from sticking up for himself now.

He’s waited too long, really.  He’s sat back and wallowed in his own self pity as the world has gone by and Alex has gotten himself a sweet and charming and innocent boyfriend and it’s that that’s stopping him from blurting his secret on a large scale.

Liam would be devastated, no scrap that, _heartbroken_ if he found out what Alex had done all those months ago when he’d been intoxicated.  He’d been intoxicated.  Louis can’t deny that a drunk mind can cause you to do stupid things you wouldn’t normally but just the thought of letting Alex off the hook makes him burn inside.  It’s not right, no matter how drunk he was.

Alex may not be the same as he is now but he did it.  He raped him and if that isn’t enough evidence then the fact that Lottie is sat in her room with a broken heart and tearstains on her cheeks because of him is.  He’s mauled Louis and he’s doing the same to his family, to his friends and that’s not right, even if it is indirectly.  He’s butchered his life too much for Louis to let it carry on any longer.

He’ll ring the police, he swears on his life.

His phone buzzes on the bed next to him where he dropped it after ending his call to Zayn; his emotions all strung up and mixed up and in a general mess as he’d told the secret he’s kept bottled up inside since October.

Upon first glance he thinks it’ll be a message from Harry, having a go at him for shouting at his boyfriend and he wants to cringe as he thinks of the words he’d said to Zayn, how he’d treated him with such disregard.  Zayn knows what he’s talking about yet he threw it all back in his face.

If he felt sick beforehand, once he reaches the bottom of the message he wants to just die.  Zayn’s words just sound so heartfelt and he just wishes they were true but he doesn’t miss the message in his words:  Niall.

Niall’s always been there.  Niall’s always stood by his side, whether that be as they’d tumbled back from the pub all those months ago back when they met, or when Louis had pounced on him and kissed him until he had nothing left; Niall’s always been there.  He’s the constant in Louis’ life that he never wants to lose, and yet, he ran away from him.

Flicking through his messages he finds 37 and a further 19 missed calls from the Irish lad, all in the space of around 12 hours.  Each and every text ends with a heart or a kiss or a mixture of both, Niall’s own personal twist to the end of his messages and it makes Louis smile but it’s when he’s reading through them, watching as they get increasingly more worried and the spelling starts to become incoherent the further though the stack does Louis’ lower lip tremble.

Niall’s worried sick about him.  He has no idea where he is and he’s been around his workplace, around Liam’s coffee shop and Harry’s bakery and Harry’s flat and Zayn’s flat and his own flat, just looking for him.  He’s gone out of his way to try and find him and if that doesn’t make Louis’ heart swell happily in his chest whilst sinking like a stone guiltily, then nothing will. 

He’s always known that Niall was there for him, that he wouldn’t judge him but he never knew it extended to anything quite like this.  They’re not even properly official, are they?  Yet Niall’s been scouring the neighbourhood for him and bombarding his phone with calls and messages to try and find him.  He cares.

It’s never really hit him, just how much Niall means to him until now.  He’s always just been there and Louis is thankful for that, so thankful that had it not been for him he might not actually have been here today but never had he ever expected that Niall would feel the same; that he’d care as much as he does.

He’s been dealt a crappy hand so far in his life, what with his parents divorce and his abuse at the hands of Alex, but Niall’s like the trick has up his sleeve, the card that can save him.  Niall’s his King in a hand of Jokers.

He expects Niall to pick up, he’s not going to lie, he just didn’t expect it to happen on the first ring before the dial tone has completed one of its cycles, but he answers and he sounds so relieved and Louis never wants him to stop saying his name, ever.

“Nialler?”

“Yes, Lou, what is it?  Oh my god where did you go?  I’ve been so worried, I’ve been driving myself mental looking for you.  I was so scared, you’ve got no idea.  I’ve been going up and down alleys and shit just looking for you and gosh,” He sucks in a huge breath and Louis can hear the smile in his voice.  “Hi, Lou.”

He smiles, his face feeling tight as he wills himself not to cry, to just get the words out that he needs and drive home, drive home to Niall.  “I’m coming home.”

“Lou where are you?” Niall asks, there’s a roar of traffic in the background, blocking some of his Irish lilt but Louis can still pick it up, can hear the twist to some of his words that would have his mother looking confused had she heard them and just the thought of Niall meeting his family makes him smile, a hot desire burning deep within him.

“I’m at home up in Doncaster,” He whispers, pressing his jumper sleeves to his mouth to try and stop the tremble of his mouth.  “Up at my mum’s house but I’m coming home.”

“You don’t need to come home, y’know?  I just needed to know you were safe, is all.  Didn’t know where you were, you just _went_.”  Niall sounds tired, as if someone’s kept him awake all night and maybe Louis has; he doesn’t know when Niall realised he was missing.  “I can ring in for you at work tomorrow.  Tell them what’s happened, if you want.”

Louis shakes his head, knowing that doing that could end up putting his job on the line, one of the only pieces of normal he has left in his life, something he’s fought so hard to keep so far.  “No, it’s okay.  I really need to work.”

“You really need to or you don’t think you’re allowed not to?”  There’s a challenge behind Niall’s words and he knows he won’t be able to get round them, knows that Niall will twist and tease him into doing what he knows Louis wants to do.  Niall’s good like that, his mum would like him.

“Do you want me to lose my job, Niall James Horan?” Louis asks, laughing lightly at himself as he props himself up on his childhood bed and looks across at all of his sisters’ paintings and drawings tacked on the far wall, watching the emotions change every time he settles his eyes on a different picture.

“No, I want you to spend time with your family, Louis William Tomlinson.”

“I’ve got to work, Niall.” Louis huffs; hating that it’s true because he’s been an arse for the past 12 hours that he’s been at home for.  He’s done nothing but upset his sister and his mother and ignore the lot of them; he’s not smiled at them like he normally would.  He’s been an arse and he wants to change that but his current commitments aren’t giving him the time to do that.  The line falls silent for a few minutes before Niall comes back, sounding chirpy.

“Actually, you don’t.” Niall sounds pleased with himself and it makes something flutter in Louis’ belly.  “And don’t you dare start cursing me out because Harry said you’d do that, but I’ve booked you the week off.  I just texted Perrie and she’s covering for you, whether you like it or not.  Her words, not mine.”

He lays with his mouth wide open for what seems like an eternity before Niall chuckles on the other end of the phone, startling him out of his shock.  “You didn’t.”

“Enjoy your little holiday, Lou.” Niall chuckles.  “Perrie says it’s fine by her so long as you take her shift for the next few Sundays.  Something about going to watch her boyfriend play football, I don’t know but anyway, yeah.  You’re free for a little while.”

Louis is gobsmacked, to put it lightly.  Absolutely gobsmacked.  “You didn’t need to do that, Niall.” Louis stutters as he pushes himself up on his bed to slide off of the side and start pacing his room.  “Seriously, like, thank you so much.”

Niall brushes off his thanks.  “I did it because I love you, yeah?  I don’t deserve any thanks for doing something I wanted to do.”

The word love makes something glow bright and hot in Louis’ tummy.  He loves Niall, he worked that out a long time ago but it’s reignited each and every time Niall says those words with such intensity yet calmness about them, as if he means them and doesn’t feel pressured to say them.  Louis doesn’t either, so he repeats them.

Their conversation slows then, both boys running out of things to say until Niall asks about his family and how they are and Louis just breaks out into a grin, falling back onto his bed to begin an effortless conversation about each of his family members.  “I want you to meet them one day, they’d love you.”

“I want to meet them one day too,” Niall agrees.  “They sound like exact replicas of you, what’s not for me to like.”  Louis’ cheeks flush but he refuses to try to hide them when he feels like he’s floating, just knowing he’s got Niall back, even if he hadn’t ever really lost him.

He’s floating so high.  “Come to Doncaster.”

“What?”

“Come to Doncaster.” He means it.  “Come and meet my family; come to Doncaster.”

“Are you sure?” Louis scoffs.

“Of course I’m sure, you blonde numpty!” Niall scolds him for that and Louis can just imagine the pout on his lips.  “Come to Doncaster.”

“Now?”

“Now.”  Louis confirms, shifting on his bed so that he can get up, taking the steps two at a time as he runs down them, the phone pressed to his ear.  When he hits the bottom step he comes face to face with his mum who gives him a smile and offers him a cracker off of her plate as she departs from the kitchen, heading towards the living room where a Disney film is playing out, loud and obnoxious as his sisters sing along.  “Right now.  Come to Doncaster right now so I can show my mum the best thing that ever happened to me.”

His mum looks shocked as she takes a bite of her cracker before she grins at him all wide lips and dazzling teeth, hugging his middle as he pulls her in and he brushes away Niall’s hesitations.  “Come to Doncaster, Nialler.”

It’s more or less agreed then when his sisters come barrelling through to the hallway, demanding to know who’s coming to Doncaster and Niall has to buckle, that he has to come up so.  “So I guess I’m coming to Doncaster then,” He giggles, apparently in his flat as he asks what the weather’s like and what he needs to pack and whether Louis needs anything from his flat before he comes up. “I’ll see you soon then, babe.”

“Yeah, see you soon, babe.  Love you.” Louis wants to faint, so he does, into his mother’s arms as his sisters’ dance around them, excited for _Louis’ babe_.

“I love you too, Lou Bear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	171. Chapter 171

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know where to start with the apologies for updating like a snail on this, I'm so sorry!<3 Also shout out to Mr. Garfield, hope your first week of school was amazing, miss you love:)

Apparently Louis’ sisters are getting agitated, or at least that’s what all of Louis’ texts messages state, as Niall pulls up into the service station just an hour from Louis’ home.  It’s a bloody long drive from London to Doncaster but he wouldn’t change any of it, not a single yard, not even a hundred miles of it, so long as he can see Louis.  He just wishes that could be sooner.

He slips out of his car, flicking the locks before walking into the service station, more than ready for a coffee because he’s pretty sure he’ll see the morning light before he sees Louis, sadly.  It’s gone midnight now, so he really hopes Louis doesn’t mind being disturbed to let him in later.

‘I’m at the services, will be there in an hour or so, depending on traffic. Don’t wait up:) Love you<3 x’

He’s in line for his coffee when his phone goes off, a disgruntled man in front of him muttering a _bastard_ as he presses his fingers to his temples and massages them but Niall couldn’t give a damn as he unlocks his phone, Louis’ voice hitting his ears and knocking his heart out of his chest before he has time to say hello.

“Of course I’m going to wait up, you numpty!”  Niall laughs at Louis’ choice of conversation starter, the man in front grunting out his order to the barista behind the counter.  She reminds him of Liam in a way when she walks past her colleague and takes a second longing glance towards him in his polo shirt and coffee stained apron before she gets to work.  Too much like Liam, it makes him smile.

“It was just a suggestion,” He chuckles, leaning his hip against the counter when the arsey man in front of him leaves with a cup of tea in his hand.  He smiles a thank you as the barista nods at him, having pointed out his order on the menu sticky taped to the counter so as not to disrupt Louis.  She gives him a smile in return, as if she understands and he catches that longing glance again.  It’s a shame that the guy – his name badge says Eric – doesn’t catch it, he frowns.  “But no, seriously, go to bed.  I’ll text you when I get there, Lou.”

“But I want to wait up for you, Ni.”  Niall can’t argue with that, even if he tries to because Louis just sounds so raw, like he used his heart to shape and voice those words.  It sends a shiver down his spine.  “The girls have gone to bed now anyway and mum and Daniel have gone as well.  Don’t really need to sleep yet.”

There’s definitely a yawn tacked onto the end of that sentence.

“Really?  You don’t think you need to sleep?” Niall doesn’t even need to wait for Louis’ answer.  “So I’m just _that_ boring am I?  Yawning at me when all I’m doing is keeping you company.  How rude, Lou.”

“I’m not yawning because of you,” Louis pouts and it sounds as though he stifles yet another yawn, making Niall grin helplessly to himself.  “I’m yawning because I miss you.  I’m bored without you.”  There’s a squeak on the end of the line.  “You know, not in a weird way or anything because I’m not weird, I just meant like I-”

“I miss you too, Lou.” There’s a pause on Louis’ end and Niall takes that opportunity to look at the barista serving him.  She hands his drink across with a smile, passing him a plastic spoon and spreading out some sugar and milk sachets in front of him silently.  He couldn’t be more grateful so he whispers his thanks as he listens to Louis’ cute little stutters.

“For what?”  He sounds awake suddenly, as if surprised and Niall can just imagine him sat huddled up in his bed with the phone pressed to his ear and the blankets wrapped around him as he blinks continuously like a little kitten to keep away the sleep that wants to take over his body.  Niall’s seen it so many times before it’s become a memory that he doesn’t even need to draw up in his head, it just forms instantly, like a reflex.  Loving Louis is a reflex; it just clicks into place effortlessly.

“Not you babe, just thanking the barista for my coffee,” Niall stirs the sugar into his coffee carefully and drops in a sachet of milk to taste. It taste good; well, as good as cheap service station coffee can taste, anyway.  Louis’ voice makes it acceptable.  “Just gonna drink this and then I’ll set off again.  I’ll be there soon, babe.”

“You’re ringing off?”

“Do you want me to?”

Louis’ reply is hushed and stilted but it still comes, a little _no_ that sounds as though it might have had to travel through Louis’ hand to reach Niall’s ear.  Niall grins, dropping himself into a seat in front of the windows of the station, watching as trucks and lorries pull up into the car park, cars mere insects against their humungous forms as they swerve into parking bays, their bright headlights dropping to nothing, shielding them in the darkness of the night.  If Niall didn’t see them pull in, he’d be oblivious to the fact they were there at all.

“Good because I don’t want to ring off, either.”  He’s the only one in the seating area and it’d feel weird if he didn’t have Louis.  There’s something too closed off about it, something too cagey.  Louis evicts that immediately, it’s just what he does, whether he’s speaking or not.  He’s just a beacon of light to ward of the bad, even if that light might not be quite as bright anymore.  Niall wants to make him brighter again, maybe even brighter than he was before.

 “How was the drive then?  Not too bad I hope.” Louis shuffles on the other end of the line; he can hear the creak of bed springs behind his voice and the ruffle of sheets getting tangled.  He wants to be there now.  He misses Louis.  His fingers twitch with the need to pull at Louis’ sheets are wrap them back around the older boy’s frame, to make sure he’s warm and happy and comfortable.

“It wasn’t too bad, getting out of London was a pain in the arse though,” He can still see all of the rows of traffic trying to exit the city even now and it makes him want to throw his head against the table like he’d wanted to his steering wheel.  “Other than that it was fine, the roads were all clear.  I guess it’s because of the time, not many people want to be out on them at this time of the night, which is good.”

His coffee cup is warm against his palms as he presses his fingers into it, letting the heat sink through his skin and ignite the nerves in his fingers.  “You didn’t need to come up straight away, I was being too pushy.  I’m sorry.”  Niall doesn’t like that tone of voice on Louis; hate how it sounds so sad and frustrated with himself.  “Niall?”

Only when Louis says his name does Niall realise he’s made a pathetic noise in the back of his throat and it’s travelled those few miles down to Louis in Doncaster.  He catches the end of his whine, it sounds somewhat like a groan and a whimper, and it’s because Louis is apologising for being the best thing he knows.  He’s apologising for being perfect.

“You’re so annoying when you do that,” Louis stays silent and Niall’s glad because he doesn’t want to have an argument, just needs to get this off of his chest.  “When you apologise for making me happy.  It’s as if you regret it and I hate it because I don’t regret any of this.”  Now isn’t the time, he knows but he’s doing it now anyway with a cup of cooling coffee abandoned on the table in front of him and Louis’ voice distant in his ear.  “It’s as if you regret letting me in and I know I forced my way inside but you didn’t stop me and I thought that was okay but every time you apologise it’s like you’re having second thoughts, like you want me gone.”

Louis wants to speak, Niall knows he does, but he needs to let this out, to get it out into the open before it suffocates him.  It’s not a thought he’s ever had, how Louis makes him feel like an intruder sometimes and he _knows_ that he’s not doing it on purpose but he still feels it and he hates it, hates knowing there’s a chance Louis doesn’t feel the same way as he does.

“Why did you leave this morning?”

The shuffle of bed sheets breaks the silence that they’ve been stuck in for a while as Louis shifts on his end of the phone.  He can hear a female voice far off and suspects it must be Louis’ mum but he can’t focus on that when Louis needs to answer the question.  “Louis?”

“I just needed to get away.  I was overwhelmed by everything so I just needed to come home.”  Louis makes a distant noise and before Niall can ask he hears the distant click of a door shutting closed.  “You’ve not done anything wrong, Niall.  I promise.  Absolutely nothing.  I have no second thoughts about you.  About us.  I was just overwhelmed; it’s been a long time, y’know?”

Niall doesn’t know, not really.  They’ve never spoken about past relationships, not really thought about anything but _them_ really.  It’s always been him and Louis, and they’ve never let any external forces into what they have, not even their friends really knew about them, it was only last night that Zayn, Liam, Ed and Harry really knew they were together.  

“A lot’s changed and I just needed to think, to sort through my thoughts.  I may not have done that the right way but I’ve done it and I’m sorry, Niall.  I didn’t mean to upset you; I’ve never meant to do that, ever.”

“I love you, Lou.” It’s easier than letting all of his emotions escape as he lets the words Louis’ just spoken fall into pictures in his mind.  He knows what’s happened with Louis and how he’s been treated and it hurts him to even think about that, so he can’t imagine how Louis feels.  They’ve never spoken about it.  Niall’s never asked and Louis has never brought it up and maybe that’s not healthy but they’re working through it in their own way and Louis has been the happiest that Niall’s seen him in months so he doesn’t want to disrupt that.  Never wants to be the cause of Louis’ heartache or pain, he just wants to be the one to bandage him back up and cast away his worries.

“I love you too,” It’s hushed but Niall’s heart still melts at the words, letting them rain over him, both hot and cold against his skin as they sink in.  They make him feel so many different things that he’s up and out of his seat in the booth before he can register it and the cold air of the night is hitting his skin, slicing through the heat that the coffee had placed in his veins, leaving him cold as he sits in his car, key in the ignition and his leg bouncing against the floor of the car.

“Would now be a good time to tell you that you make me feel the happiest I ever have, no matter what you do, Lou?”

There’s a hitch of breath and a glimmer of a giggle.  “Maybe,” He can hear the smile, feel the blush on Louis’ cheeks at his words and it urges him on as he fastens his seatbelt and prepares himself for the drive on the final leg of his drive to Doncaster.  “But I don’t mind you saying it again.”

“Louis William Tomlinson you make me, Niall James Horan, the happiest I have ever felt in my entire life, ever.”  The car park is dark around him, a single street light lighting his way out of the parking area and back onto the final motorway of his journey and he feels like a moth to a flame, wanting to reach it as soon as possible so he can see Louis again. 

“You’re very sappy at night time,” Louis chuckles before dropping his voice to a whisper.  “I like it.”  He giggles and it ignites something in Niall to turn to key in his ignition and set the engine alive.  “You’re about to set off again, I hear.  I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Of course you will, babe.  I’ll be there in around half an hour or so.  I’ll text you when I get there.  I love you, Lou.”

“I love you too, Nialler.  I love you so much.  Drive safe.”  He hangs up then, pressing his foot down on the accelerator, prepared and ready to go from 0 to 60 in 3.5 seconds just to make sure he sees Louis before the sun races up the sky.  He’s possessive over Louis sometimes and he refuses to let the sun see Louis’ tan skin before he can, refuses to let it touch him before he can press his fingers into the skin of his hips and kiss his lips.  Louis just does weird things to him, he thinks as he speeds down the motorway, every time a number drops off the number of miles he has left to travel making him grin dopily at himself.  Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	172. Chapter 172

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so so so sorry for my lack of updates! I've been inundated with homework because school's started back up again:( Hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently soon. Thank you so much anyone who's still here and reading my nonsense, it means a lot<3

All of the lights are off in Louis’ house as Niall looks up at it from his car, the heater blasting out heat to try and dispel the chill that’s settled in the air.  It’s quarter to two in the morning, according to his dashboard clock, when he pulls up outside Louis’ house.  The motorway had been closed so he’d been forced to take all the backstreets and random roads that his Sat-Nav was more than happy to lose him on so he’s been travelling for well over an hour and a half, so he definitely doesn’t expect Louis to be poking his head through the curtains of the living room before racing through the house and swinging the front door open wide, feet clad in fluffy socks and his pyjamas hanging off of his frame as he runs towards Niall’s car, slipping inside and launching himself at Niall.

His hug is warm and familiar and Niall can’t bear to let him go as he twists his fingers in the shaggy lengths of Louis’ hair, teasing his fingers through them.  Louis’ body is warm against his own and they fit, despite the distance that’s been put between them.  It feels somewhat like they’ve never been apart, as if nothing’s changed and really, nothing has.  Louis is still Louis and he’s still Niall.  Nothing’s changed.

“I missed you, Lou.”  He feels Louis’ repetition of the same words against his neck and it makes him smile, burying his head in Louis’ hair as Louis does the same to his neck, peppering kisses there that warm Niall to his very core.

Niall’s hands dig into Louis’ hips, feeling the bones protrude through his paper thin skin and it makes Niall frown, feeling how Louis’ slipped back into his old habits.  He knows Louis’ not been eating as much as he had been doing but he’d just put it down to him not wanting to, not being hungry but just feeling how he’s like glass in his hands has Niall frowning.

“I think we should go for a drive.”

It’s sudden and he knows why he suggests it but Louis doesn’t need to know that as he presses a kiss to Louis’ temple, feeling a shudder dance its way up Louis’ spine at the contact.  Louis pulls away slowly, his hair messy from having Niall’s fingers running through it and his face is littered with stubble that makes kissing him even more appealing when they’ve been apart.  He licks his lips, flicking his eyes between Louis’ mouth and the bright blue of his eyes, forgetting his plans to program his Sat-Nav for the nearest McDonalds.

“Kiss me.”

Niall doesn’t hold back, swallowing the little gasps that leave Louis’ mouth before they hit the air, feeling them as they hit his tongue as it moves between them, dipping into the cracks and crevices on Louis’ lips before ducking into his mouth when Louis’ licks across the seam of his lips.  It’s hot and deep and passionate as Louis leans across the centre console, almost in Niall’s lap before he’s leaning back against the dashboard, sucking in deep breaths, his cheeks a deep and rosy red.  “Wow.”

Niall grins, watching Louis suck in breaths, his eyes closed as he tries to settle himself.  It’s overwhelming, watching Louis try and come back into himself when he’s all pink lips and blushed cheeks and Niall can’t bear to watch it, has to turn away and breath hot and heavy on the cool window next to him, panting out his breaths and fogging up his window.  “Yeah, _wow_.”

Louis turns to him with a smile, all wide and toothy as Niall’s heartbeat quietens down, just a constant hum inside of his chest now.  “A drive where?”  Louis has a sense of childish curiosity about him as he blinks up at Niall, his lip caught between his teeth as he wrings his wrists with the sweater paws of his pyjama top.  Niall can’t help but smile.

“Anywhere.  Anywhere you want to go, we’ll go.” He twists himself in his seat so that he’s sat directly facing Louis, their knees brushing as the night seeps into day around them.  The door on Louis’ side of the car is still open, letting a rush of cold air run into the car, Louis shivering but never tearing his eyes away from Niall’s own.  Niall leans across him and pulls it closed, pressing a kiss to Louis’ nose as he pulls away, eyes locked on Louis’.  “How about breakfast?” His stomach seems to agree with his suggestion as it gargles; he hasn’t eaten since 5 o’clock and that was only a bag of chips on his way home from work. 

Louis smiles, all curved lips and glistening eyes as he turns in the passenger seat before popping open the door and rushing inside of his house to lock up.  He’s back before Niall notices it but it doesn’t stop him from pressing a kiss to Louis’ hand as it rests on the console between them.  The engine rumbles around them as his car shudders to life before they start rolling down the road.  “McDonalds?”

“McDonalds.”

“So what have you been doing up here then?”  There’s hardly any cars on the roads as they drive and it makes Niall jealous; he’d rather there be millions so that he could sit in lines of traffic with Louis rather than by himself like he had earlier that night but apparently life is against him and they breeze through all of the traffic lights they hit.

“I haven’t done much, got here early yesterday morning and haven’t really done anything.  Just stayed in my room, been a general arse, really.” He sounds frustrated with himself so Niall squeezes their fingers together on the centre console.  “I’m surprised mum hasn’t told me to buck my ideas up yet.”

Niall laughs lightly, one hand on the steering wheel as he keeps Louis’ hand clasped in his own.  “Nah, she’s your mum, she’d never say something like that.  Bet she’s loved having you back up here.”  The brunette makes a noise of agreement in the back of his throat before he turns his head against the head rest of the car seat.  “Plus I’m here to win them over now.”

He throws a cheeky smile Louis’ way and the older boy grins to himself, closing his eyes and he pulls his feet up to his bum, resting his head on his knees.  “I’m in my pyjamas and you’re taking me to McDonalds.”  He sounds fond as he wiggles his feet in his fluffy socks, watching the digits dance inside of the fabric.  He’s far too cute and innocent.

“That I am, and it will be amazing; especially since you’re in your pyjamas.  It’s like breakfast in bed, but with a twist.”  He smiles, watching the road before he sees the large fluorescent sign seem to grow from nowhere, bright as day against the early morning backdrop.  “Would you like drive through or do you want to eat in?”

Louis looks down at his feet sadly, as if he’s telling himself off for not putting shoes on when he ran inside to lock up his house but Niall just smiles, reaching behind his chair to pull his duffle bag between them.  “If you want to go inside I’ve got some shoes you can borrow and a coat to hide your pyjamas, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  He pulls the zip to the bag down, exposing the choices he’s got readily available.  “I’ve also got some of your stuff in the back as well.”

Louis lifts his head from where he had been examining the clothes inside of Niall’s bag, trying to work out which of Niall’s items wouldn’t hang off him quite as much.  “My stuff?”

Niall’s cheeks flush.  “Yeah,” He scratches the back of his neck, trying to work out his words.  “I didn’t know what you had at your mum’s so I just picked a few things out for you, just in case.  I wasn’t sure so I thought I’d bring them anyway.  I don’t know if you’ll wear them or not but they’re in the boot of the car.”  He places his hand on the door handle, ready to push it open.  “I’ll get them out if you want; I wasn’t sure if you’d want them or not so I left them back there.”

“N-no, no it’s okay.”  He sucks in a breath, pressing his eyes closed for a second before opening them wide and looking Niall directly in the eyes.  “Can I wear yours?”

The shock of Louis’ request leaves him gaping in his seat before he realigns his jaw and smiles at the older boy, nodding quickly.  “Of course you can, Lou.  Whenever you want.  Take your pick of what you want to wear.”  He flicks his eyes around the car park, looking for any weirdoes lingering in the shadows.  “Do you want to get changed in the car or inside?”

Niall keeps his eyes on his phone as Louis climbs over the front seats into the back, rifling through Niall’s clothes until he finds some he likes, shuffling his own off and Niall’s on to replace them.  It’s a quick change really; he’s ready in less than 5 minutes, even as he tries to pull a pair of Niall’s skinny jeans and fixes his hair.

“Do I look silly?” Louis asks as they hit the first streetlights outside of the McDonalds restaurant.  He looks so concerned and innocent as he looks down himself and Niall frowns, slotting his hand into Louis’ and squeezing softly.

“You look perfect, Lou.” He’s wearing Niall’s clothes which gives him enough of a thrill but seeing how his jeans are a little bit too long on Louis’ legs gives him a rush of fondness towards the brunette boy, seeing how the cuffs are rolled up at the bottoms to rest on his ankles at the tops of his Converse.  Niall’s ‘H’ jumper is baggy on his frame over the dark wash jeans and he just looks both adorable and sexy at the same time and Niall’s brain can’t comprehend how he can be so insecure when he looks the way he does.  “Ready?”

Louis is the first one to push his way through the glass doors of the restaurant, tightening his grip around Niall’s hand nonetheless but Niall doesn’t mind that as he’s tugged along by Louis.  He’s suddenly confident and it stirs something deep within Niall as he tugs Louis back into his arms, the smaller boy faltering and falling into his chest, looking up at him with wide eyes.  “I love you, Lou.”

It’s a rather romantic gesture for the setting their in; with McDonalds wrappers littering the floor and surfaces and tabletops sticky with milkshake and soft drinks but Niall doesn’t care as he holds Louis’ waist, smiling down at the smaller boy.  Louis looks increasingly flustered the longer Niall holds him but he doesn’t care when he’s got Louis in his arms, a small smile starting to creep up his lips. 

“Kiss me.”

It’s a request that Niall’s more than happy to oblige Louis as he dips his head down to press a soft kiss to Louis’ lips, feeling the older boy press a little more forcefully against his lips than normal but Niall doesn’t question it as Louis’ hands explore his arms, running up and down them, fingernails causing a sensory overload as they trail across his skin. 

Pulling apart appears to be more of a challenge however as Louis’ lips trail after his own as he parts them, his cheeks flushed red as he does so.  Louis’ hands are still clamped around his biceps as they part, Louis’ fingers sunken into his skin in the most delicious of fashions as they just watch each other.  They’re stood in the middle of a McDonalds in Doncaster at half two in the morning in each other’s clothes but all that they can focus on is one another, their breaths hitting each other’s faces.  Louis smells sweet as Niall breaths him in once they head up to the counter, scanning the menu boards as the workers get on with whatever it is they do, Niall’s chin rested on Louis’ shoulder.  “What would you like?”

Louis gives his order softly, his voice still a little bit raw from their PDA and it makes Niall’s stomach flip as he recites Louis’ order to the waitress, ordering the same for himself before tacking two McFlurries on the end of the order.

Louis looks confused by Niall’s choice items but Niall just smiles, watching the workers prepare their food before handing over the money and taking Louis’ hand in his own.  “Go get us a table, yeah?  Your choice where we sit.”  Louis still cocks his eyebrow when the McFlurries are deposited on their tray before he sets off to find them a table.

Niall watches as Louis walks away, his legs looking amazing in his jeans and his hands wrapped up in sweater paws from Niall’s jumper.  He looks like a dream and he’s tapping his foot against the lino before he can stop himself.  He’s been apart from Louis far too long already.

Louis smiles when Niall turns up at their table, handing him his food and watching as he devours it, watching fondly as he picks up his fries one at a time and eats them in no more than three bites.  Niall just smiles when Louis cocks his head at him confused, shaking his head with a little laugh as Louis blushes.

When Louis’ fries are all gone and he’s picking his chicken nuggets out of the little bag one by one and dipping them in ketchup, Niall can’t help but smile to himself, doing the same to his food, stealing from Louis’ ketchup cup just to be a pain in the arse.  Louis just grins up at him, pulling the pot closer to himself and shaking his head.  “Mine.”

Niall pouts, reaching for Louis’ arm playfully to try and recover the ketchup, ignoring the other pot that’s in the centre of the table specially for him, wanting Louis’ instead.  When he gets his hand on Louis’ arm, the elder boy jerks away, lifting his feet under the table and pressing one to Niall’s leg to try and keep him away.  It doesn’t work and Niall just wraps his legs around Louis’ instead drawing the smaller boy closer.

Louis is smiling as he looks up at Niall from under his eyelashes, a half eaten chicken nugget between his fingers and a little pot of ketchup in his other hand and Niall’s breath is taken away, yet again.  He wraps his foot around Louis’ ankle, rubbing the tip of his shoe over his jeans and just grinning like a fool at the boy in his clothes.  “I’m glad I came, Lou.”

“I am too,” Louis tips his head down to his chicken nugget, dipping it in the sauce before offering the condiment pot to Niall who reaches for it with soft eyes before Louis pulls it away with a childish gleam in his eyes and a jingle of joyous laughter slipping between his smirking lips.  “Still mine.” 

Niall’s surpassed the point of endeared.

Once their main food is completed and all they’ve got left are the McFlurries on the tray, Louis voices his question for as to why again, just earning a smirk in response from Niall before he takes Louis’ hand and pulls him back out to his car, depositing their rubbish on the way.  It’s only when they’re in the car with the McFlurries placed in the cup holder between their seats that Niall speaks again.

Louis has been looking at him with an air of curiosity all night – morning? - since he purchased them and it’s kept his nerve endings static, as if they’ve been ignited with electricity, a rampant current running through his blood stream.  “We’re gonna play a game with them, if you want.”  Louis quickly agrees because that’s just the sort of person he is.  He’s all for jumping in head first and it’s been a pleasure to watch that come alive again, to see him creep back into the person he was before he was mistreated, to watch what Harry calls the old Lou come back to life. 

“We’ve got to ask each other questions about ourselves and if the other person gets it right then they get to eat a mouthful of your ice cream.”  Now probably isn’t the right time to be eating ice cream as the sun’s starting to rise up in the sky, igniting it in burst of pink and blooms of orange.  It’s magnificent, watching the colours shroud onto Louis’ face and bask him in a majestic mix of colour.   “In other words it’s a battle to protect what’s rightfully yours.  I’ll go first,” He spied the little look of confusion in Louis’ eyes when he first brought this game up.  “What’s my brother called?”

“Greg,” Louis is straight off the bat and watching Niall with unsure eyes the longer Niall gapes at him.  He never expected Louis to have remembered that, he mentioned him that first time Louis came to his apartment and he’s not been mentioned since, Niall’s sure of it. 

Niall nods, star-struck as Louis smiles, looking down at his lap, his eyes happy and shining under his shaggy hair as it drapes across his forehead.  “Yeah,” He passes Louis his ice cream, letting him take a spoonful.  “Your turn.”

“What’s my eldest sister’s name?”  Niall bites his lower lip because he’s certain he knows this, knows Louis’ has mentioned her before.  It begins with an L he’s sure of it.  Lola, Lily...

”Lottie?”  Louis beams at him and it’s amazing, watching it happen, like a flower blooming on his lips, setting his eyes alive with a vivid brightness.  He’s receiving Louis’ ice cream in no time, grinning around the spoon.

“What’s my middle name?”  Louis’ answer is, of course, instantaneous and it makes something twist deep inside Niall’s stomach knowing Louis knows him so well, that he listens to things so intently.  Louis repeats his question for Niall’s go and they just sit grinning at each other, ice cream on their tongues as the morning sun trickles into the sky.

Louis has got his feet tucked up under himself by the time they’re half way through their ice creams – they’re both far too good at this game – and is turned in his seat to look directly at Niall, looking adorable in his jumper.  “Where was I born?”

“Ireland.  You were born in Mullingar, Ireland.”  Louis looks so proud of himself as he twists his hands between the fabric of Niall’s jumper sleeves that Niall can’t help but lift a spoonful of his ice cream to Louis’ mouth instead of passing him the tub.  Louis looks confused at first until he opens his mouth unsure and licks the ice cream off the spoon and Niall’s heart rockets in his chest.

Louis, however, doesn’t look overly fazed, there’s a tiny hint of a blush on his cheeks and that’s all Niall can see in the darkness of his car as they continue to play, adopting Niall’s new rule of feeding each other when they get a question right.

The car park is gradually starting to fill up around them as they scrape the last few dregs of ice cream from their tubs as rewards for their final few questions, their lips tasting of the sweet treat when Louis ducks down for a kiss before he exits the car, carrying their rubbish over to the bin in the centre of the car park.  It’s quick and chaste and it probably means nothing really but it makes Niall’s cheeks flush, watching as Louis walks back to the car, a spring in his step.

“Home?”  Louis nods, pulling his seat belt across himself ready for the drive home as Niall turns the key in the ignition. 

“This was nice, Ni.  Thank you.”  Niall flicks a look at Louis as he pulls out onto the motorway in the direction of Louis’ house, shaking his head and urging that it was nothing.  “No, but really.  Thank you.  For everything.”

“It’s nothing Lou, honestly.  I did it because I wanted to; don’t need to thank me for that.” 

“Thank you anyway, whether you wanted to or not.”  He reaches across their seats to place and hand on Niall’s leg.  “Thanks for everything, even the smallest of things.  Just thanks.”

“This isn’t your way of saying goodbye, is it?” He says it like a joke, hopes it comes off like one in a way but he’s genuinely horrified, terrified of Louis saying goodbye, for this being over for good with no way to go back.  No way to undo what’s been done.

Louis’ hand squeezes his thigh softly when they come to a set of traffic lights and Niall can barely bring himself to look over in Louis’ direction and see the regretful, pitying look on Louis’ face.  “I’m not breaking up with you, you numpty.” Niall lets out the breath he had been holding, flicking his head towards Louis who smiles at him with a fond shake of his head.  “I just wanted you to know how thankful I am to have you.  I don’t say it as much as I should.”

“I love you, Lou.”  The lights have just flicked to green but he can’t bring himself to pull his attention from the Doncaster lad that he’s got sat in his car.

“I love you too, Niall James Horan.”  He leans across the centre console to press a kiss to Niall’s lips before he meets Niall’s eyes as he pulls away, his breath fanning out across Niall’s lips.  “But you might want to drive, babe.”

Niall pouts as he puts the car into gear, pressing his foot on the accelerator to get them moving again, making Louis laugh next to him as they continue on their drive back to Louis’.  “Do you think your family are awake yet?”

Louis flicks his eyes to the clock on the dashboard, watching the digits flip into 6:53 as they pull onto the road that Louis’ house is located on.  He watches the road, looking for the house he’s only seen cast in darkness and shadows before Louis points it out to him.

It’s quite a large house, set back off of the road with a large driveway that’s filled with two cars and another parked on the roadside in front of it, it must be Louis’, Niall thinks.  There’s a small garden at the front with a bed of flowers set by the low hedge by the roadside.  There are decorative slabs that trail from the pavement to the door like stepping stones and Niall can see little chalk etchings that litter their surfaces making him smile.  There seems to be no movement inside the house, no curtains thrown back yet. 

“They must still be asleep.”  Niall whispers, as if Louis’ family will hear him and he’ll wake them if he speaks too loudly.  Louis’ looking up at the building with a soft smile on his lips, leaning against the window to get a better look, eyes far away as silence falls between them.

“I’ve only ever lived here and in London, y’know?”  His voice is soft with sleep and Niall knows he’s not slept, that he’s stayed away all night for him, waiting for him to arrive and then to make him happy and he really wants to make Louis happy in return when he can.  “I’ve lived here more or less all my life and it feels different every time I come back, like something’s changed without me.”

There’s a twitch of a curtain upstairs and it seems to drag Louis out of his thoughts, twisting in his seat as he unbuckles his seatbelt, previously open thoughts seeming to close and barricade once again.  “Ready to meet the family?” 

Niall can’t do anything but nod, lifting himself out of his car once he’s removed his keys from the ignition and dragged in three deep breaths.  Louis’ standing by his car door by the time he gets out, smiling like a fool as he reaches out a hand to entwine it with Niall’s, lacing their fingers together and squeezing lightly before he kisses Niall’s lips softly and pulls him towards the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	173. Chapter 173

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to the amount of homework I'm getting I think I'll have to cut this down to weekly updates. I'm so sorry. I feel so disappointed in myself but until my homework starts to lighten up I'll only be able to update at weekends:(
> 
> I hope you're enjoying the story so far.

Johanna is drifting around the family home the moment her alarm goes off, waking both her and Dan.  They’re dressed and ready to organise their kids by quarter past 7 and still there’s the lingering chance that they’ll be late, as usual.

Lottie’s awake in the next room over, her music playing loud behind her voice that’s singing along drowsily, but it’s the others that are the problem right now.  Slipping into each room consecutively they wake up the kids before heading downstairs and preparing breakfast.

Daisy’s running down the stairs just moments after them, the TV igniting and sound booming out into the stillness of the morning air as Dan flips the switch on the kettle to try and will their bodies to wake up.

“Morning,” He mumbles into her shoulder as he wraps his arms around her waist from behind, his breath hot against her neck as he places a soft kiss behind her ear.  He’s all soft and warm in the mornings, with his shirt unbuttoned and his tie on the kitchen table and it makes Johanna smile lazily, tipping her head back to meet his lips and returning the greeting.

Another set of light footsteps bound their way down the stairs and the light giggling in the living room uncovers the child to be Phoebe.  The kettle flicks off once it’s boiled and the morning seems to get going as Dan tips spoonfuls of coffee granules into their respective mugs as Jo works her way around the kitchen, setting up breakfast for her kids before calling them into the room, placing spoons next to their bowls.

Before any of the girls can respond and sneak their bowls into the living room there’s a gentle knocking on the door that makes Dan groan and roll his eyes.  “Who could it be at,” He checks his watch, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.  “10 past 7 in the morning.  Jesus.”  Jo laughs lightly at him, slipping out of the room and calling up the stairs to Lottie, telling her that her breakfast’s ready when she wants it.  All she gets in form of a reply is a Katy Perry lyric.

There’s two people at the door, she thinks as she walks towards it, picking up the girls’ bags from the front door, ready to carry them into the kitchen and pack their lunches inside once she’s answered the door.  The straps get caught on her rings on her fingers as she does.  “Give me a minute!”

“Sure, mum!”

She’s never whipped her head at a door quite as fast as she does then.  “Louis?”

“Mum?”

Definitely Louis.  She quickly disentangles herself from the school bags, twisting the key in the lock and coming face to face with her son.  “Louis?”

“Mum,” He’s grinning like a fool, the verge of a laugh on his lips as he looks at her, cocking his head to the side.  “You okay?”

It’s only when Louis does that that Jo’s met with a flash of blonde hair and pink cheeks.  Niall.  She’s stood staring, speechless and confused until Louis reaches out to her, tapping his fingers against her forearm. 

“Jo?”  Dan rounds the corner into the hallway then, his shirt done up but his tie still vacant, looking at her confused before he looks over her shoulder at Louis and Niall in the doorway.  “Morning Lou.  You must be Niall,” He snakes his hands around Jo’s waist, reaching around her to hold a hand out for Niall to shake before beckoning them inside, Louis pulling the door closed behind them.  “Can I get you boys anything?”

He takes Johanna’s hand, pulling her into the kitchen and the two boys follow, trailing after them.  She’s got no idea why she can’t speak but she just knows that she can’t.  Not when she’s looking down at the entwined fingers of Niall and Louis that just meet so effortlessly, the pair grinning despite themselves.  Her heart feels light in her chest, as if she’s floating just watching them.

Niall watches her carefully, as if concerned and it shakes her out of her confusion, instantly lighting up and beaming wide as she slips herself down into a seat at the table and tells Louis and Niall to get comfortable.  “How was your drive, Niall?  I didn’t expect you to arrive so early.”  She smoothes her hair with her fingers.  “I’d have looked more presentable if I’d known.”

“You look beautiful, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Niall says as he eases himself down into his chair, Louis slipping into the one next to it whilst Dan sits opposite Louis.  There’s an Irish lilt to his voice that makes Johanna smile, understanding why Louis gushed about it yesterday.  “The drive was okay, got a bit delayed but other than that it was good.  I’m glad to be here.”

Louis beams next to him, nibbling on his bottom lip as he meets eyes with Johanna, as if looking for a seal of approval.  She just returns his grin with a knowing look in her eyes and Louis’ smile stretches even wider across his lips, if that was possible.

They sit and talk for a short while until Lottie slips her way through the kitchen door in her school blazer, fussing with her hair between her fingers as she prepares herself a cup of tea.  “Does anyone know where Louis is?  His room’s empty and he _never_ gets up early.”  She drops a tea bag into the mug, staring down at her phone absently as the kettle boils.  “He owes me a tenner from the last time he came up.” 

She turns on her heels when she gets no response, coming face to face with her smirking brother, her grinning parents and a nameless blonde boy at the kitchen table.  Johanna can’t help but laugh, eyes lighting up at the sight of her daughter as she introduces Niall to her blushing daughter.  “Nice to meet you,” Niall grins, charming as always as he stands up for the younger girl, offering her his seat since it’s the closest available chair.  “I’m Niall.”

The name clicks.  “Louis’ babe?”  Lottie smirks when Louis’ cheeks flame and he ducks his head, biting his lower lip as he tells her to shut up.  “It’s nice to meet you, Niall.”  She flicks her eyes at her groaning brother, grinning.  “I’ve heard a _lot_ about you.”

Louis looks about ready to throttle his sister then so Johanna steps in, telling Lottie to go and get her sisters’ shoes on ready for school so they can leave at a sensible time as she stands up to pack the girl’s lunches into their bags, leaving Dan to talk to Louis and Niall as she buzzes round the family home.

She needs Daisy’s reading folder and her recorder for today so she goes traipsing around the house looking for them, a smile on her face when she hears the combined laughter of Niall, Louis and Dan.  The recorder is on the end of Daisy’s bed and her reading folder is on the desk by the door right next to Phoebe’s spelling sheet so she picks that up also, shaking her head at the disorganisation of her two youngest children as she slips into her own bedroom.

There are pictures of the kids on her dressing table, individual photos and group ones and they all show the stories of her children’s lives, how they’ve each grown in their own individual ways and she doesn’t mean to get lost in them, only came in to brush her hair, but there’s one picture that stands out to her, drawing her away from her task: the one of Louis and Lottie together when Lottie was just 5 years old. 

She’s all happy smiles and pink, rosy cheeks with her hair up in bunches, whilst Louis is all easy smirks and playful eyes.  They complement each other in a way that no two other children on earth can.  They’re almost the same people in some aspects but then you just see the cracks and crevices of differentiation between them and it hurts Johanna like a bullet in the chest as she sees just how much her children have changed, what she can’t remember. 

Lottie’s chubby cheeks have more or less gone now, but she can’t recall when that happened, and she’s been granted the face of an angel with soft lines yet defined features, her dark hair gone and instead replaced with lightened, long locks, whilst Louis is all stubble and definite cheeks bones.  His hair is messy instead of neatly combed as it had been back then and his baby fat has dropped off of him, leaving him with a stick figure. 

Looking at him now she almost doesn’t recognise the little boy in the photograph with the dog-eared corners; the only recognisable feature is his eyes that seem to glow with a cheeky playfulness that Louis is the master of.  Thinking back to how he was with Niall downstairs, Johanna can see tiny glimpses of her little boy coming back.  She can see his bright blue eyes and the tilt of his lips as he smiles, things he’s been missing since he got there the day before.

He’s been locked in his room the entire time he’s been there, hardly moving from his childhood room unless he really has to, but now, with Niall by his side, he’s grown back into himself.  When he arrived yesterday all Johanna could see was a tired, scared little boy that didn’t know how to fix himself or whether to let others try, but now, he’s happy.  It’s as if Niall carries the missing pieces of Louis and the brunette is only truly happy within his presence, as though he’s only really there when they’re together. 

It’s both heart warming and horrifying for Johanna as she watches her son creep back into himself in the presence of a boy.  She’s known he was gay since he did, more or less.  He’s never kept anything from her and she was one of the first people he told when he figured it out for himself and she’s supported him.  She’ll support him in anything and everything he chooses to do.  But this, this is scary. 

Knowing that something’s not quite right with her first-born child makes her want to crawl up her bed and bury herself in the sheets until she can’t cry anymore tears, has nothing else to give.  She saw it at Christmas, a sort of _restriction_ in Louis as he tried to interact with the girls, with the rest of the family, as if he didn’t know how to let go, like he didn’t want to, couldn’t almost.  Looking back on it now it makes her sick knowing she didn’t pick up on it, mention it to Louis and see what was wrong.  She’s his mother, she should have been there for him, should have been ready to support him and help him but she just got so lost in the fact that Louis was there after so long that she didn’t want to acknowledge that _Louis_ wasn’t there.

He was a mere shadow of himself at Christmas and she should have seen it; should have questioned it.  She saw it.  Knew something had happened but she didn’t say anything and it’s been eating her up inside more the longer Louis has stayed in her company.  She was the one he first fell into when he walked back into their home just over 24 hours ago, she was the first one he went to whenever he had something to say and yet she was never the first one to go to him.  Niall was.  And that’s what scares her most.

There’s no saying when Niall will leave, when something will happen and he’ll throw in the towel and take away – unknowingly - the missing pieces to Louis and leave him grasping hold of the few pieces he’s got left.  That’s what makes her heart sink in her chest, battling against the floating sensation in her heart and the butterflies in her stomach, shooting them dead.

The sound of Niall’s voice travels up the stairs and swirls in the air of Johanna’s bedroom, reminding her of the smile that set up camp on Louis’ lips the moment the blonde opened his mouth to speak.  Implanting into her memory the image of Louis’ rosy cheeks when Niall brushed up against him and their hands swung between them as they stood in the kitchen, Louis obviously not in his own clothes and their lips littered with a faint dusting of kissed-pink. 

They remind her of herself and Louis’ dad, with their sly glances at each other and blushed cheeks, their loving stares and secret smiles.  It’s everything she doesn’t want for Louis.  But Niall’s everything he needs, everything she wants him to have.

“Mum?” Lifting her head, she catches sight of Lottie in the doorframe, leaning against it with a worried slant to her mouth.  “Is everything okay?”  In this light her hair shines like spun gold, the light from the morning sun casting itself over her skin and making it glow, her lips a subtle pink tone.  Looking at her now, Johanna can see the air of the five year old in her 16 year old daughter.  She’s got the same eyes, same dainty smile and curves to her lips.  She’s everything she once was and so much more.  She’s grown into the young woman that Johanna hoped she would be and she’s beautiful, more than beautiful.  She’s ethereal. 

Johanna takes one more glance down at the photograph in her hands, soothing her thumb over the smooth metal of the frame, teasing her fingers over the delicate and intricate designs that swirl in the cool silver.  Her eyes land on Louis’ young face saved in the fibres of the paper, in the pigments of the ink, seeing the boyish arch to his mouth and the perkiness of his cheeks as he smirks at the camera, a look destined for trouble and Johanna wants so desperately to keep him out of that trouble forever, but it looks like he might already have fallen.

“Mum?”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” She lowers the photo to the mattress, slipping off of the bed and following her daughter down the stairs, watching her long hair swish across her back as she walks.  She’s taller than Johanna now, can rest her chin on the top of Johanna’s head if she wanted to but she always seems to fold into herself, to hide, as if she wants to stay as a child still, doesn’t want to accept that she’s nearly an adult now.  She’s not going to miss her chance with another child.  “Are you okay, Lots?”

Her eldest daughter smiles softly at the nickname, turning her head towards Johanna and taking her hand in her own, always one step ahead and five inches shorter than her mother as she treads the stairs.  Again, the idea of wanting to stay as a child runs through Johanna’s mind.

“So Niall seems nice,” Lottie begins in a whisper once they hit the last two steps of the stairs.  She lowers herself down to sit on the bottom step like they do every day, ignoring Johanna’s question.  It’s like a meeting place for them of sorts as they wait for the other girls to ready themselves for school.  It’s been tradition ever since Lottie cried on the stairs about going to visit her dad back when she was eight, tears streaming down her cheeks as she told Johanna about why she didn’t want to go, that she wanted it to stop seeing him.  It’s their place to talk and Johanna adores it.  “He makes Louis really happy.”

She can hear Louis’ gentle laughter float in from the kitchen as the girls rush around grabbing their schoolbags and getting ready for school.  Niall’s voice is mixed in there too and Johanna doesn’t know quite how to feel.  Niall’s good for Louis, she knows he is.  She can see it in how the pair of them look at each other, but there’s a sense of danger, an underlying darkness between them as if their ship is just moments from sinking, from dropping them both down into the deep pits of inky darkness and leaving them to battle against the forceful waves of the sea, and she doesn’t want to see Louis be the one that drowns. 

“He is, he’s changed your brother,” She peeks through the railings of the stairs, watching how Niall and Louis interact on their own.  They’re leaning against the counter with Louis pressed to Niall’s chest as they talk quietly into each other’s skin and it feels too intrusive to watch, as if she’s stealing a part of their affection when she watches them.  She leans her head against the banister, taking the smooth strands of Lottie’s hair between her fingers and braiding it softly, with no aim and no purpose.  “He’s changed him for the better, made him happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

The rampant footfalls of the young girls makes Johanna smile, leaning her head against the stairrail as she looks towards the kitchen again.  “Shall we go find Mummy?” Louis laughs as she teases his fingers between Niall’s own and those of his sisters, walking them all out in a long line towards the door.  “You ready to go, mum?”  He’s smiling so wide and brightly that it instantly wipes the worried arch of Johanna’s mouth away, twisting it into a soft smile as she nods, standing up and helping Daisy slip her arm into her coat whilst Niall plays pat-a-cake with Phoebe, grinning widely as he laughs and sings along with her.

Johanna can see the fond, affection smile that Louis shoots Niall’s way, watches how it transforms his face and wipes away some of the black bags that have appeared under his eyes recently and it makes him look so much younger, so much more refreshed and seeing that makes her heart sink because Louis has fallen so hard that she’s not sure if she’ll be able to pull him back up, not that she wants to when she watches how her son presses a kiss to Niall’s lips, whispering words she never expected to hear from him once the girls have filtered out of the door and are making their way down the garden path.  “I love you, Nialler.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any questions, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	174. Chapter 174

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the rubbish updating timetable but school just sucks:( I hope you're all good though:)

Once the girls are at school and Dan and Johanna have left for work, the house is empty and eerily quiet.  It’s strange; Niall’s just gotten here but he knows that the house doesn’t suit silence, that it’s actively avoided in the building.

He’s looking at the photos on the wall when Louis slips his arm around Niall’s waist, his fingers dancing under the fibres of Niall’s shirt to rest on his hip.  His hand is warm, despite the cool air they just walked through to get the girls to school.  “Don’t look that those,” Louis whines, pulling him away from the pictures of Louis in his early days, from infancy all the way up to his last school photo.  There’s hardly any recent ones of him hanging on the walls of the hallway, Niall notes.

“Where are we going?” Niall mumbles as Louis takes his hand, pulling him up the stairs and into a room that’s shrouded in darkness, the curtains pulled tight against the window pane, blocking all light out.

There’s clothes scattered under foot as Niall walks, trailing after Louis as he keeps hold of his hand, following him through the darkened room until Louis pulls him down, their fingers entwined as they lay next to each other on a bed. 

“To my room,” Louis is grinning from ear to ear, Niall can tell, both from the tone of his voice and the way his eyes seem to glow in the darkness of the room.  Louis is magical, always has been, but he will forever be ethereal in the dark. 

The room is relatively bare, just a few items of clothing across the floor and a few knickknacks and such around the room, CD’s and DVD’s piled up on a rack near a small TV on the other side of the room.  It’s everything that Louis isn’t.  Louis is loud and boisterous and happy when he wants to be and this, this is just too bare, too empty, too precise.  Louis is random and effortless and this just looks controlled; nothing like Louis.

“My mom cleaned it up when I left.  I left it in a right state.  I more or less stormed out.”  His voice is quiet yet defiant as he leans back against the mattress, looking up at the ceiling.  “There wasn’t much left by the time I’d left, most of it was either broken or came to London with me.”

“What happened?” Niall knows Louis wants to talk about it, or he wouldn’t have brought it up in the first place.  He leans back so his head is next to Louis’, the pair of them looking up at the ceiling together, their chests rising and falling in sync.  It’s strange just how connected they truly are.

Louis drags his tongue over his lower lip, sucking it into his mouth once he’s finished as he blinks his eyes closed for a few seconds before pulling them open and turning to look at Niall, resting his head on his shoulder.

“Mum didn’t want me to go; she said I’d be throwing everything I had here away if I left.”  He turns onto his side and pulls his hands up to his chest.   “I had what she described as ‘everything’ here.  She didn’t want to see me give it up.”

Niall nods, understanding what Louis means but not pressing any further than Louis wants to go.  His parents weren’t overly pleased when he decided to stay in London instead of going back to Ireland with them.  “Do you wish you’d listened to her?  Wish you’d stayed here, I mean.”

Louis swallows, reaching out across the mattress to press his thumb lightly into the dip of Niall’s hip, feeling the bone under his skin and the heat of his body as he sighs, glancing at Niall’s hands before wrapping his around them.  “I don’t regret going to London,”  There’s a level of defiance in his voice that make Niall’s mouth ease open, a question hanging on his tongue that makes him want to vomit just knowing he’s been given the chance to ask it.  “I wish I’d made some different choices whilst I was there,” His voice is quiet, almost a whisper as he licks over his lower lip, chewing it lightly before releasing it and rolling closer to Niall, tucking their fingers together and squeezing lightly to get Niall’s attention.  “There are some I will never regret though.”

Niall blushes, dipping his head down to press a kiss to Louis’ temple, letting his breath fan out over the shaggy ends of Louis’ hair.  “I wish London would’ve been better to you,” Niall mumbles as he moves them on the mattress, pulling the duvet out from under their bodies and tucking them up into it.  “I’m glad you came to London, Lou.  I just wish you’d left it a little later to get there.”

Louis smiles sadly up at him, nodding, before ducking his head down into Niall’s chest and just breathing, his breaths ragged but he’s not crying, it’s as if he’s just sucking some of his life here in Doncaster back into his soul, letting it fill his lungs; or at least Niall likes to think so.

There’s a silence between them as Doncaster outside bubbles and boils up into chaos, motorists fighting for dominance on the roads and pedestrians forcing their way around each other on the pavements.  It’s utter mayhem outside, but neither boy cares as sleep takes over and their bodies entwine even closer together.

The final ebbs of daylight cling and grapple their way into the room, lighting it up in a dull light that matches that of the rooms interior.  His jeans are tight on his legs as he moves, the fabric clinging to his body more than usual having slept in it but his shirt is soft, Louis’ even softer skin spread over it.  He’s topless, his shaggy hair a crumpled mess against his tan skin as he lays across Niall’s chest, a peaceful look spread across his face. 

Looking down at him, Niall can’t help but be enamoured and fond as Louis’ lower lip slips into his mouth and his eyelashes flutter as he dreams.  He hopes Louis’ dreaming; he doesn’t want him sad.  Niall’s ‘H’ jumper is hanging haphazardly at the foot of the bed and it is that that’s the reason behind the blazing heat of Louis’ skin pressed against Niall’s own.

Louis doesn’t feel like he’s fever hot to the touch, he’s just too warm, with his legs are kicked out of the side of the duvet and his skin a little clammy with sweat.  Teasing his hand through Louis’ hair, Niall brushes it back off of Louis’ face in the hope of cooling him down, even if it’s just a little bit.  He may look comfortable but he’s far too hot to be truly happy, surely. 

“Niall?” Louis mumbles against his chest as he moves, as if the runnings of Niall’s hands through his hair are the reasons behind his awakening.  His hands ball up into fists against Niall’s chest as he starts to rub his face into the fabric of Niall’s shirt, making frustrated noises.  “You’re really hot.”

Niall stares down confused at the bleary eyed boy against his chest, running his hands through the ends of Louis’ hair absentmindedly.  “You’re the hot one, Lou.” Louis makes a groaning sound against his chest that makes him grin.  “Both literally and in terms of appearance.”  His cheeks flame against Niall’s chest, hotter than he was initially.

Louis just seems to shuffle around then, throwing his legs out of the duvet before sliding them back under and then running them over Niall’s shins and up his legs before he becomes unsatisfied and starts the cycle again.  His head seems to roll across Niall’s chest like that of an infant that cannot support its neck; it’s rather adorable, except for when Louis starts peppering kisses across his arms and his chest as he moves, then it becomes frustrating because Louis’ mouth isn’t on his own.  Louis is far too amused by this than he should be.

“Can’t make me,” He chuckles, rolling his face away from Niall’s pouting lips, the house still quiet around them but Niall can see that it’s getting gradually closer to 4pm and that it won’t stay this way for long.

Niall rolls his eyes, smiling at the smaller boy that’s grinning up at him from his chest, watching how he smiles innocently but his eyes show something completely different, a sense of a challenge hidden in his orbs.  “I don’t need to make you,” Niall flips them, rolling Louis onto his back with Niall kneeling at his feet, watching Louis’ confused look turn somewhat impressed.

The last time Niall spread himself across Louis it resulted in the older boy running away with tears in his eyes, so Niall takes it one step at a time.  Baby steps, for his babe. 

Stroking his thumb and forefinger over the bones of Louis’ ankles, he pushes them apart slowly so he can kiss up the insides of them before pressing a soft kiss to his knees, seeing how they dip and dive when his lips connect with them. 

Louis is looking down at him, his eyes soft and sure as he nods, giving the permission that Niall didn’t know how to voice, so he carries on.  His smatterings of kisses mainly focus around his knees and lower thighs where they are tiny scars from his football-full childhood that mottle his skin.  They’re all individual and Niall gets lost in them.

Louis’ hand is in his hair, running gentle fingers through the sleep-mused strands as he finishes memorising the different scars that run across Louis’ legs and he heads on up to Louis’ hands, taking each finger individually and kissing each knuckle. 

Louis’ eyes are shut now when Niall looks up, a soft, content smile on his lips but Niall refuses to continue without having Louis set the boundaries at all times.

“Lou?” Louis’ eyes flash open quickly, looking down at where Niall’s got his palm held open in his hand, running his fingers along the veins there softly.  “Tell me when to stop.”

A flash of sadness flickers through Louis’ eyes before he nods, lips wobbly as they lift up into a smile, a sure one at that.  “I trust you,” He lays his head back against the pillow behind him, keeping eye contact with Niall before he closes his eyes slowly.  “I trust you, Nialler.”

Niall’s throat clogs up then, watching Louis lay himself all out for him, letting him do as he pleases, when he pleases, without any objections.  It’s all too much.  Niall bows his head, leaning over Louis and pressing his nose to Louis’, rubbing them together softly as he smiles sadly down at the man of his dreams, removing his hands from Louis’ body.

Louis is everything to him, everything he could ever want, ever need, ever hope for.  He’s everything and watching him demolish the walls he set up, just for Niall, knocks the air from his lungs and tips his world off of its unbalanced, incomplete axis to a sturdy, stable and beautifully handcrafted one.  “I love you,”

Niall’s eyes are closed as he says it, tipping his head down so that his nose and forehead are pressed to Louis’, their fingers entwined on the bed beside them as Niall runs his right hand over Louis’ cheeks, brushing the definite arch of his cheekbone with his thumb. 

Louis looks up at him then, his eyes bright and alive and like pits of magical fire that dances and burns in an ethereal symphony, the steps and the harmonies of the boisterous light and life inside his eyes swishing and swaying, flashing and flickering in a memorised performance that entrances and enthrals all those that witness it.

Niall’s focus is solely on Louis’ eyes, watching how the cerulean blue of the orbs swirls and looks like marble decorating his pupils that he isn’t ready for the press of Louis’ lips against his.

It’s soft and gentle and loving yet passionate and powerful as their lips bind together, saying the words that are yet to be created and inscribed in the pages of historic documents of the future.  Their lips say everything except for the breathless ‘I love you’ that Louis lets slip as they pull apart with rosy cheeks and wild eyes, their hands still entwined and bound between them as their bodies rest on one another.

Louis looks so small under him, with his bright eyes littered with a childish gleam and his sweet smile that holds so many secrets finishing off his face. His hair has fallen like a halo around his head and it makes him look like the angel Niall swears he is as his pink cheeks puff out with his intakes and outtakes of breath.  Louis is breathtaking.

He lowers his face down to press a kiss to Louis’ nose, whispering a repeat of Louis’ words to the Doncaster boy, earning himself a giggle and Louis’ face contorting into one that resembles that of his little sister Daisy’s this morning when Niall had tickled her.  He’s beautiful and adorable, his eyes squished up and his nose scrunched up as Niall presses kisses to his face, making him giggle uncontrollably.

“I love you,” Niall’s breathless as he forms his words around a smile, watching Louis with affectionate eyes, their feet entwined at the end of the bed as they lay out across it under the covers.

“I love you too,” Louis says, voice a little raw from his laughter and his lips kiss-red from their passionate embrace but Niall wouldn’t change it for the world.  Louis is his world. 

Louis is looking up at him with a smile on his face as Niall leans over him, his knee becoming uncomfortable the longer he stays there and Louis seems to notice, pushing Niall down so that he’s laid across his chest.  “Hi,”

“Hi,” Niall grins, lowering his face to Louis’ chest and pressing a kiss directly onto his chest in the middle of his sternum and breathing him in as Louis’ fingers tangle in his hair, feeling the rise and fall of his chest under his lips.

“Louis?” It’s Daisy’s voice, Niall believes as he stays buried in Louis’ chest, huffing out a breath as he tries to hide away from the brightness that her opening the door causes to hit his eyes.  Looking across at the little superman clock that’s positioned on Louis’ bedside table he spies that it is in fact quarter past four and they’ve been in bed all day, more or less.

“Yes, Dais?”  Louis’ fingers don’t still in Niall’s hair and instead continue to comb through it nimbly, even when a collection of voices join the conversation, all taking over one another he doesn’t stop, just runs his fingers through it more, massaging at Niall’s scalp with a smile on his lips.  “Okay, okay.  Hold up, we’ll be out in a bit, we’ve just got to get showered and dressed.”  Louis makes no move to get up, so Niall doesn’t either and just rubs his thumb across the back of Louis’ hand beneath the sheets, feeling the dips and dives of his bones and veins in his hands.

“We?”  Niall thinks it’s Fizzy talking now but he’s not 100% certain.  He leans his head on Louis’ chest, looking out towards the bedroom door with squinty eyes, partially hidden beneath the duvet cover.  “What, is Niall in here?”  The girls make giggly noises between them, cheeky smiles on their lips that match that of the grin that’s common place on their brother’s face. 

Louis grins, nodding and peeling back a piece of the duvet to show Niall to the girls, as if he’s a secret.  It makes them giggle some more before they start to walk into the room with sly grins on their faces, puppy dog eyes at the ready on all of the girls faces.  “Can we come and cuddle too, Lou?”

Niall grins, completely ignoring Louis and beckoning them all up so that they’re spread across Louis’ bed in a mismatched pile, all under the covers in some way and all touching either himself or Louis, chatting about their days and giggling happily between themselves until Louis’ mum calls the lot of them down for tea and it’s only then that Niall can see the affectionate, fond and endeared smile that’s nestled on Louis’ lips and directed solely at him.  It makes his heart race, as do the pair of lips that crash into his own once the girls have trickled out of the room, leaving them alone and in a strange silence that wasn’t apparent before the girls came home.

“What?” Niall blushes, tipping his head to the side confused when Louis’ gaze doesn’t falter and he makes no effort to move, instead wrapping his arms around Niall’s back, his hands meeting in the middle of his spine as he presses Niall impossibly closer to him in a heartfelt hug, breathing him in, face in his hair.

“Nothing,” Louis whispers, his breath blowing Niall’s hair and warming his skin before he lets him go and takes his hand, directing him to the bathroom and leaving him be.  “You’re everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	175. Chapter 175

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet no one expected this update did they! I didn't either haha! I hope you're all having a good weekend:)

By the time Niall’s had a quick shower and thrown on the set of clothes that Louis left for him in the bathroom, Louis himself is already dressed and showered, his hair fluffy and damp from towel drying it.  He’s all soft lines and childish eyes as he grins at Niall, taking his used towel and dropping it in the hamper before walking him down the stairs and pressing a soft kiss to his lips as they reach the bottom step, smile more alive than he’s seen it in a long time.

Everyone is dashing around the kitchen, fixing plates and stealing food items as the table is set, Johanna pulling a tray of pasta sauce off of the oven top and scooping it on top of the swirls of spaghetti, completely lost in the task as Dan beckons all the girls to sit at the table ready.

“That means us too,” Louis chuckles, taking Niall’s hand and pulling him from the doorway and into the dining room at the back of the house that joins on from the kitchen and onto a conservatory that looks across the back garden that’s decorated with shrubbery and dozens of flowers around its perimeter, blazoned in the light from the sun.

Dinner is a smooth affair, with all of the occupants of the table chatting freely: the girls about their lessons at school and their friends, whilst Johanna and Dan talk about their day at work until the room falls near silent with just the sound of cutlery clashing and scraping and noodles being sucked up littering it.

“So what did you boys do today then?” Johanna asks as she lifts up a napkin and dabs at her lower lip before setting about eating again.  It’s not an awful question and Niall shouldn’t be scared to answer but he is, in a strange way.  He doesn’t want to disappoint Louis’ family or make them dislike him in any way, and especially not within the first 24 hours of meeting them. 

Niall feels his cheeks flame as he looks down at his and Louis’ interwoven hands.  They’re under the table, balanced on their thighs that are pressed seamlessly together, Louis’ foot tucked up around Niall’s ankle.  “We slept all day,” Louis says, reaching for his drink before taking a sip and smiling across at Niall.  “Niall was at work all day yesterday before he drove here so he was pretty tired so we just slept and lazed around all day.  It was fun, I enjoyed it.”

“Bet you did!” Daisy pouts, crossing her arms across her chest.  “You got to sleep all day and we” She motions at the other girls at the table.  “Had to go to boring, silly school.  That’s not fair!”

Louis laughs at her, grinning when she glares at him and complains to her mum about having to go to school and do maths that day when Louis didn’t have to.  She gets very into her argument, Niall notes with a grin as he watches her flail her arms around herself to try and enhance the point she’s trying to make.

Niall smiles at her, shaking his head fondly once she’s stopped talking.  “You wouldn’t have wanted to stay here Daisy,” Niall says, voice light and teasing which catches her attention.  “Louis kept making me smell his feet.  He’d have done that to you if you’d have stayed home as well.” He squeezes Louis’ hand to let him know he’s joking.  “They’re really smelly, you might have fainted!”

“Eww!” Daisy exclaims, face revolted.  “Louis’ feet really pong!”  She wafts her hand at her nose with a cheeky smile, holding her nose, making her voice come out funny as she turns her gaze towards Louis.  “That’s disgusting!  Oh I’m so glad I went to school today.  Louis that’s horrible!   You were so nasty to your boyfriend.”

The whole table seems to still except for Daisy as she keeps complaining about Louis’ smelly feet.  Louis is frozen next to him, eyes wide and avidly avoiding Niall’s before he blinks them and they go back to normal, a happy glaze to them as he turns his attention on his sister again.  Niall’s cheeks darken when he meet Johanna’s gaze, ducking them down to his pasta instantly.

“What can I say?”  Louis chuckles, leaning back in his chair and lifting his foot up to the chair and wiggling it next to him towards his sister who squeaks in response, leaning away.  “Do you want to smell them tomorrow then, Daisy?”

“NO!” She squeals, leaning into Lottie who looks both amused and disgusted by her brother.  “Keep that away from me!  I’m going to school tomorrow; I don’t want to have to smell your yucky feet.”

“Louis put your foot down,” Johanna grins when Louis keeps wiggling his foot at his younger sister, telling her to smell it as she squeals and tries to escape it, giggles bursting from between her lips.  “It was very nice of you to come straight up here, Niall.”  Johanna smiles when the noisy giggles and chatter about Louis’ feet have fallen from the air, looking at him with eyes as alluring as Louis’.  “I know how much it means to him for you to have come.”

Niall flicks his eyes towards Louis a soft smile on his lips when he spies the gentle hue of a blush on Louis’ cheeks.  “I’m glad I came here too,” He winds their fingers back together under the table, brushing his thumb over the back of Louis’ hand as they eat the rest of their meal but that doesn’t seem to suit Louis, who, after another five or so minutes, lifts their hands up and rests them on the tablecloth between them, smiling down at his food, a twinkle in his eyes as he presents their entwined hands to the entire table.

Johanna and Dan give consecutive smiles of their own, watching how the pair interact; they’re all affectionate, almost shy glances and secret smiles as they catch each other’s eyes.  It’s when they’re in bed that they broach the subject.  Johanna is wiping her face with a make-up wipe when Dan brings it up; his head leant back against the headboard as he watches his soon-to-be wife get herself ready for bed.  “Niall isn’t quite what I was expecting,”

“He’s not?” Johanna flicks her eyes towards Dan confused as she pulls her hair up into a messy bun on top of her head, drying her face off before heading into the bedroom from the en-suite.

“No,” Dan shifts on the bed, pulling the duvet cover up for Johanna to slink underneath without difficulty.  “I don’t know what I was expecting really, maybe someone like Harry, but Niall’s not what I thought of.”  He makes a noise in his throat, unsure how to form the words he’s thinking.  “He seems good for Louis though, he’s what he needs.  They seem to really like each other.”

Johanna rests her head against his chest, wrapping her arm around his chest as he stretches his out across her shoulder, holding her closer as he flicks out the bedside light.  “He makes Louis happy,” She whispers, running her hand across her husband’s shirt.  “They remind me of myself and Louis’ dad in a way,”

“Why?”  It’s a bit of a touchy subject; Dan doesn’t like knowing that she had to go through so much shit to be able to get to where she is now so she chops and edits what she wants to say; doesn’t want Dan to go to sleep frustrated or angry. 

“No one gives anyone a promise of forever that they can keep.  Troy couldn’t handle forever and what if Niall can’t?  They’re so young and there’s so much left for them to discover, so much for them to see, and who knows that when they see it, they’ll stay together?”  She knows she’s being silly, that she’s trying to convince herself that there’s no danger between Niall and Louis instead of accepting and admitting what she thinks, but it’s better this way.  Surely letting Louis discover his own way through life is better than trying to control him.  It didn’t work before, so why would it work now?

“It didn’t work between you and Troy because he was a dick head that couldn’t see what he was missing out on,” He pulls Johanna up into his arms, leaning her head against his chest and running his fingers through her hair before pecking her lips, completely erasing all the thoughts and mixed up feelings that have boiled up inside of her.  “He was wrong to leave you, to leave Louis, but Niall wouldn’t do that.  He wouldn’t leave for the same reasons as Troy, he’d only leave if he truly had to, I can tell.  There’s something there, something holding them together and I don’t think either of them could cut that tie, even if they tried.”

She just rests her head on his chest then, feeling him shift to turn out the lights before he settles down and his breathing refuses to shallow, instead staying the same, as if he’s awake.  It stays that way for almost half an hour; he must be awake.   She lifts her head up so she’s looking Dan in the eye.  She swallows, trying to order her thoughts and decide if this is a good question to ask or whether she should keep it to herself.

“What?” Dan runs his fingers through Johanna’s hair, playing with the loose strands that fall around her face before his hands settle on her cheeks, his eyes flickering between hers in the inky darkness of the room.  “Jo?”

She quickly pulls in a mouthful of air before huffing it quickly back out.  “Do you think Louis seemed different at Christmas?”  Dan makes no sounds of understanding or answer so she reorganises her words.  “Do you think that he was off, that he wasn’t himself?”

Dan is still quiet, his breathing even but he’s not making any other noises, just watching Johanna.  “This is why you were funny after Christmas, isn’t it?”  He shift on the bed, reaching across to flick the bedside light back on and watching how it dances across Johanna’s features, a near replica of Louis’ down the hall.

“I didn’t want to bring it up,” She whispers, sitting up next to him and crossing her legs over each other, looking down at her fingers.  “I didn’t want to ask him because I wasn’t sure and we hadn’t seen him in _months_ , Dan.  Months.”  She twists her engagement ring on her finger.  “I couldn’t risk having him run away from us again.”

He shakes his head, unsure of what else to do except pull her into a hug, rubbing his hand across her back to comfort her.  “Something must have happened, something before Christmas.” She mumbles, ignoring Dan when he tells her to shush.  “Something happened that changed him somehow.”  She grits her teeth, refusing to cry when she doesn’t even know what she’s crying for or whether she needs too.  She’s just frustrated. 

“But then he was the same yesterday.  He acted the same as he had at Christmas.  He was distant and cautious, almost.  And then Niall came and,” She cuts herself off, lifting her eyes to look up at her fiancé as she fists her hands in the front of his shirt.  Her eyes are damp, she’s sure. 

Louis’ picture is across the room on the cabinet opposite the bed, stood up bright and proud, she’s certain of it and thinking of it; how he’s changed and the young man he’s grown into from the small, cheeky youth makes her both smile and whimper.  He’s grown up so fast, but she’s not sure where some of that time has gone.  

There’s a recent picture of Louis next to the latest one of the girls.  It’s from two years ago now, on one of his trips from London for Lottie’s birthday and his face is flushed and bright, his eyes shining bright, happy and careless.  His body clad in a striped shirt and his legs in red jeans.  He looks so youthful and happy with a quirk to his lips that makes Johanna smile as she thinks about it, but comparing that Louis with the Louis that she’s been in contact with recently makes her mouth pull down in a frown.  He’s a mere ghost now to what he was then and she doesn’t know what happened to change that. 

The Louis that walked through her door yesterday morning was the Louis she saw at Christmas; reserved, closed off, not quite right but the Louis that walked through that same door this morning was the Louis she remembers with a smile.  A glint in his eyes and a spark in his smile, voice crisp and clear and confident instead of locked away like it had been at Christmas all those months ago now.  And the only difference between those two scenarios: Niall.  “He made Lo-”

Dan lays her down then, brushing the loose pieces of hair off of her face and pulling her tight to his chest, running his fingers up and down her back to try and get her to calm down, to fall asleep.  It seems to work; her breathing becomes shallower and her eyes close, her head laying flat against his chest as sleep takes over, the digits on the alarm clock next to him more than alive and flashing 1:54 in his face as he takes one final look at his fiancé, playing with her wispy hair and pressing a kiss to her temple.

“He made him Louis again,” He closes his eyes, letting sleep take over as he whispers.  “I know he did, Jo, and I couldn’t be more thankful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	176. Chapter 176

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even begin to apologise for not updating last week. I was so busy and blah blah blah, it's no excuse but it's all I've got.
> 
> I hope you enjoy all my sea imagery - I very much played on the title in this chapter haha!:)

Louis’ home is very lively, Niall learns in the first few days he stays.  He arrived Monday morning and by Wednesday afternoon he’s more than expecting the girls to come flying through the front door and attack him with hugs and kisses and stories of playground meanies and classroom terrors and is more than ready to sit and listen, watching the excited glint in their eyes that mirrors the one that’s started to come to life more and more in Louis’ eyes.

He and Louis had been out that afternoon to pick up some groceries for Johanna to save her having to go out and get them on her lunch break and it was a nice experience.  They messed around with the trolley down the aisles and were generally an annoyance to the few people in the store, but they got what they needed to done and ate in the little cafe next door, chatting away and smiling like little children as they stuffed their faces with pies and pasties, feeding each other and giggling at the cliché act, unable to admit that they didn’t enjoy it all the same. 

By the time they get home, Johanna’s already returned home from work and the girls are running out of the front door to meet them in the driveway, slinging their bodies around his and Louis’ chests and clinging on, giggling.  “We missed you Niall!” They all chorus, bright smiles all focused on him as he smiles back, trying to balance Daisy on his hip.

“I missed you guys too.  How was school?”  The girls are chattering away at him and he can see Louis grinning to himself out of the corner of his eyes.

“No hugs or cares for me then, yeah?” Louis whines, pouting down at his little sisters who have relocated from Louis’ body to Niall’s and are all stood at his feet, looking up and talking solely to him.  Louis grins.  “I understand.  I’m not needed when _Niall’s_ here.”  He turns to leave and walk up the drive but the girls are too busy excitedly talking at Niall to notice. 

Johanna watches amused from the doorway as Louis makes his way up the drive, his heart hammering and a smile on his lips as he turns around to watch for a final time.

“He’s really good with the girls,” Johanna smiles, pulling Louis into her chest as they watch the girls interact as Niall sits down on the drive to talk to them, the shopping bags abandoned around him.  Johanna rests her head on Louis’ shoulder, pressing a kiss to his temple.  “He’s really good with you too.”

Louis’ cheeks burn as he nods, watching as Niall lifts his head to smile at him, as if he knows that they’re talking about him. “He is.”

“Dinner will be ready soon, so if you want to collect the shopping and your boyfriend, that’d be really helpful.” Johanna smiles, releasing her son when there’s a clattering in the kitchen: Dan.  Louis stills under her touch.  “Louis?”

“He’s not my boyfriend; we’ve not talked about that yet.”  He blinks, pulling away and lifting his hand to the door handle, running his fingers across it before opening it and leaving without another word.

He watches Niall with a timid smile as the younger boy heaves himself up and takes a shopping bag in each hand as Daisy and Phoebe try to carry one between them, giggling as they go and meeting Louis halfway up the drive. 

“They wouldn’t let me carry the last one,” Niall chuckles, shifting the two bags in his hands into his left hand and teasing his now empty right around Louis’, watching the two girls try to juggle the bag between them.  “Said they wanted me to be able to hold your hand instead.”  The girls all _awh_ around them, giggling away as they watch Louis’ cheeks burn and his previously small smile stretch wide across his lips before Johanna calls them from the door, causing them to rush away whilst Niall and Louis amble slowly up the driveway, lost in each other. 

“They had a good plan.”  Louis smiles, looking down at their entwined hands with his lower lip caught between his teeth, mind racing.  His mum’s words are trapped in his head, whirling and cork-screwing until he can’t do anything but question how the B word would sound as it follows Niall’s name.  _So this is Niall, my boyfriend_.  And how it would sound as Niall’s name follows it.  _This is my boyfriend Niall.  How_ Niall’s name would sound replaced by it. _Boyfriend._ They’ve gone so far as to call each other ‘babe’ and even that just doesn’t quite fit them, somehow.  Something’s missing.

He slows them to a stop just as they reach the front door, biting his lip so hard he can taste blood before he licks it away, Niall’s hand squeezing his as he lifts his head, spitting out his words before he swallows them back down like always.  He needs to stand on his own two feet for once because Niall might not always be there to support him, as much as it kills him to think about.  “What are we?”

Niall cocks his head to the side, lowering the shopping bags to the ground beside them and Louis doesn’t quite know what to do then as Niall watches him confused, unsure how to react.  So he just waits and slips his tooth back into the little dent in his lip, feeling the iron on his tongue before Niall lifts his hand to his face and pushes Louis’ lip away from the grasp of his tooth and scolds him lightly, eyes concerned.  “What do you mean?”

“What are we?” He screws his hands into fists, unpeeling them from Niall’s.  He never noticed just how cold the air outside was until he’s not got Niall’s body heat warming him up.  “I mean, like,” He growls under his breath and squeezes his eyes shut.  “I sound like such a teenage girl, but what are we?  What do we mean to each other?  What are we to each other?” 

He can feel the heat hot and heavy in his cheeks as it runs down his throat and encloses around his chest.  He can’t meet Niall’s eyes.  He can’t handle the fact that Niall’s name may never come before or after or be replaced by the word that his mother has now put inside of his head.  He never cared what they were before; kind of still doesn’t, if he’s being honest, he just needs to know.  He’s lived on such an uneven playing field for so long he needs to know where he stands and knowing what he means to Niall is a stepping stone to reaching that stage.  He needs this, he’s just not sure if he’ll be able to accept it if it goes wrong.  He needs the B word.

“Well,” Niall slips his hand around Louis’ waist, pulling him towards him gently so that Niall’s warm breath is against Louis’ face, a hint of coffee on his breath that Louis wants to taste, to kiss away until there’s nothing left but Niall Niall Niall.  He needs the B word.

Niall’s hands travel up Louis’ arms, teasing their way under the cuffs of Louis’ hoodie, that’s not really his at all.  Louis’ luggage is still in the back of Niall’s car, forgotten.  He’s glad it is.  He likes Niall’s clothes; how they’re always that little bit too long, too broad in the shoulders, too big on the waist.  It’s comforting, like home.  He needs the B word.

“You, to me, mean quite a lot.”  Niall tips his head to the side, a small smile on his lips and his eyes bright and alive and so blue that Louis feels like he’s drowning in them, as if their the sea and his only life raft is the words that Niall’s got to offer him.  He’s breathless. 

“I love you, Lou, you’re pretty much everything to me,” His hands are warm where Louis’ are cold, the contrast between their skin highly evident when they’re pressed like this.  “And I’d like to think that you felt the same way because I’d really like to refer to you as my boyfriend, if that’s what you’re asking me.”

Their hands are entwined, a comforting weight hanging between them as Louis looks up into Niall’s eyes, his jaw dropped and his eyes wide until they’re pressed closed through the contact of Niall’s lips on his own as he throws himself at the taller boy. 

He feels the rough surface of the bricks against his knuckles as Niall falls back against the wall of the house, holding Louis up as they kiss, their tongues meddling together between them as they huff out breaths against the other’s mouth and Louis wraps his legs around Niall’s middle, trusting him to hold him up.

The wall grates lightly at his skin, scratching against it as he fists his hands in Niall’s shirt, pulling the material taut over his shoulder blades whilst Niall battles to keep them upright as he trails his hands  up and under Louis’ hoodie and over his skin, dipping his fingers into the space between Louis’ belt and his jeans, trying to feel everything as they kiss. 

There’s so much - almost too much - as Louis continues to kiss him, feeling overwhelmed by it all.  The scratch of the bricks against his skin, the wet press of another mouth against his own, the trailing hands that are _so_ close to _that_ place. 

He breaks out into a cold sweat then, his skin feeling so hot yet so cold and a fire is trailing everywhere that skin is touching his own, his insides burning and his flesh hotting up to such a heat that he’s unable to keep a sob from falling from between his kiss-raw lips.  There’s too much, far too much.  Too much of everything he doesn’t want.  Everything he ran away from. 

His heart hammers in his chest, everything too much, there’s too much closeness, too much touching, too much of everything and he can’t, he can’t go through that again.  He won’t let himself, he’ll fight.  He needs to fight.

“I love you, Lou.”

It’s hushed and whisper quiet between them but Louis hears it and that cold sweat that’s formulated on his skin is wiped away, the heat of his skin cooling instantly and settling to a temperature that neither scorches nor freezes his flesh and every worry he had mere seconds prior is gone as Niall’s fingertips dance across his skin, the tiny ridges to his fingertips casting trails of immeasurable pleasure across Louis’ skin.

His breathing is ragged as he tries to fix himself, to sort out his breathing and blink back the tears that have settled in his lashes at the images that flashed through his head, of all the pain and heartbreak and the unforgiving tugs and smacks of skin on skin that he’s hidden so deep in his past he thought they’d never again break through the barrier of his mind. 

He sucks in a breath, lifting his head defiantly to the sky, watching how the outdoor light that hangs just next to the front door is on and bright against the early evening sky, shining through the darkness that’s about to come as his heart starts slowing down in his chest to a constant, loving, _adoring_ hum.  Niall.

He tucks his head in the crook of Niall’s neck, feeling the _thrum thrum thrum_ of his pulse underneath his pale skin and how it picks up slightly as Louis trails his lips across the protruding vein, pressing a gentle kiss and whispering _I love you_ between the innocent embrace. 

His breathing is still erratic as he tries to calm himself down but he’s got his arms wrapped so tightly around Niall’s neck that none of that matters as Niall holds them both up against the wall and Louis’ fingers are scraped by the red brick of his house and it’s okay.  It’s _okay_.  A single tear trickles down his cheek at the realisation.  It’s _okay_.

He’s being supported, not torn down and he doesn’t know how to put that into actual words, how to describe everything inside of his head, how to answer Niall as he asks him what’s wrong as he runs his fingers through his hair and presses kisses to his temple to try and calm him down, to soothe him.

So he does what he knows how to and he smashes his lips against Niall’s again, breathless but unforgiving as he lets out all of the words he’s never said and is still unable to say, but they all mean the same thing.  Each and every word he’s been unable to formulate, to let slip off of his tongue for fear of rejection, of losing the one things that’s shone brighter than all of the stars in the sky.  He’s been the guiding light for Louis and he deserves to know, even if Louis can’t say it properly.

Thank you.  Thank you for saving me, Nialler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	177. Chapter 177

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the length of time this update has taken, I've had exams and life has just been a general mess recently. I hope to update more regularly soon. Sorry again.
> 
> However, on a happier note, thank you all so so so much for 300 kudos. That's mental to me haha! Thank you so much:)

Louis’ breath hitches in his throat as they pull apart, his cheeks red as he looks at the kiss-red tint to Niall’s lips and the brightness of his blue eyes.  The kiss was so intense that he can still feel the pressure of their connected mouths on his own, even after they’ve pulled apart; the only thing still connecting them being their hands that hang low between them as they lean back against the wall of Louis’ childhood home.

There are tears in Louis’ eyes as he looks out across the street, watching the sun rapidly set in the sky, casting a shocking orange across the backdrop of house.  Neither boy makes an effort to move when Johanna calls them in for dinner, her knuckles rapping against the window pane to catch their attention.  They barely turn their heads:  Niall’s too focused on Louis and Louis is too focused on keeping back his tears. 

There’s a lot that Louis hasn’t told Niall, a lot of details that hadn’t even left his lips when he spoke to the police or to Harry, but they’re rattling around inside of his head right now.  The tiny details that didn’t seem significant or relevant - that he was physically unable to voice – back then; they’re all coming back. 

How the man who attacked him had worn a ring on his right ring finger, a simple silver band that had been the reason for the clean cut across his jaw when the metal had penetrated his skin when he was hit.  How the jacket he was found in wasn’t his own and he’d been lent it by the man who’d raped him earlier in the night as they’d danced in the club.  How his attacker had drawn his initials into his back with his nail multiple times when he’d rammed him up against the wall and his clothes were shucked off, and the scratches weren’t just caused by accident like the investigators thought.  All of the little things he could have said that he didn’t, that he let scare him off.  All the things that could have prevented his attacker from being able to continue roaming the streets and causing to a constant threat to the public. 

It’s only when Niall has teased his fingers between Louis’ own and pulled him from the wall, the smaller boy looking up at Niall and watching how the sun backlights his hair and makes it shine differently in the evening light, that the true extent of what he remembers slams into him like a brick wall. 

They’re all sat around the dinner table, the family eating away at their chicken curry and rice when the conversation causes a shiver to run down Louis’ spine and back up Niall’s own, as if connected, the night’s earlier mental revelations still shaking Louis to the core.

“ _Tess of the d’Urbervilles_ has got to be one of the most disgusting books I have ever read!” Lottie announces once they’re all settled and half of their curry is gone as they chug down glasses full of water, trying to soothe and cool their tongues.  So far the conversation has jumped from child to child as they all discussed their days, explaining about what they’ve learnt and who they’ve suddenly hated for no reason and it’s all been childish fun, until Lottie.

She’s an A Level English literature student, Niall knows, as they’d discussed it the first night he arrived as they’d seen _Animal Farm_ playing on one of the TV channels and complained about it together as Louis had watched them, amused at their ranting when he turned it on and hid the remote from them, forcing them to watch it.  But that was then and it was all harmless fun, now, it could break everything, especially when the younger girls leave the table to go and play and it’s just Lottie, Fizzy, Dan, Johanna and Louis and him left to listen.

“It’s just about rape.  It’s it, nothing else.  It’s all sexual innuendoes and rape.  It’s vile.”  Niall watches as Louis’ back stiffens into a hard line and the hand holding his fork clenches around the metal implement.  “It’s not even done classily, it’s awful.”

Louis’ jaw is working underneath his skin, Niall can see, as the conversation delves deeper into the sadistic storyline of the English classic.  Niall knows what it’s about and it makes it all the more painful to watch Louis have to go through this when he’s oblivious to the story, to all of the ideas and opinions that could potentially sprout from Lottie’s lips. 

“Tess is just pathetic.  She goes back to the man who raped her because she has no one else.  It’s almost as if she’s asking for it by the end, really.”  The hand that Louis has entwined with Niall’s tightens under the table and Niall can see the slight wobble to Louis’ lip as he keeps his head down and stares indefinitely at his plate.  “I have no sympathy for her at all.”

“It’s a bit harsh to say she was asking for it.” Niall says, fearing the worst when Louis fidgets in his seat.  “No one deserves to be raped, same as no one deserves to be murdered.  It’s a tragedy.”

“But she knew who raped her and she still went back to him.” Lottie argues, lowering her cutlery to her plate and positioning herself for a debate.  “Alec raped her and she knew it and yet she still went back to him after she’s met Angel and they married.  Sure, maybe they’re not happy, her and Angel, but they love each other, deep down, and she throws that away by being a coward and going back to Alec.  She’s pathetic for that and I have no sympathy for her.”

“It’s not called being a coward if you can’t bring yourself to do something that scares you, Lottie.” Louis whispers.  He’s been quiet all dinner time since they came inside so it surprises even Niall when he speaks.

“Well what does it make you then?  She’s refused to punish Alec for what he did to her and instead fell back into his trap, that’s cowardly.”  Lottie picks up her fork and takes a mouthful of rice.  “The worst thing is that she knew.  She knew who attacked her and yet she did nothing.  That’s what makes her a coward.”

Louis’ hands feel hot to the touch as Niall runs his thumb over the knuckles to try and calm Louis.  He can see the distress on his boyfriend’s face, even when he’s turned it down towards the tabletop and is refusing to meet anyone’s eye.

“Sure, I guess in the context of the novel nothing would have happened to Alec if she had told anyone but at least she wouldn’t have been punished by Angel as much as she was.”  Dan and Johanna are smiling between themselves as Lottie continues to debate the point but Niall just feels sick to the stomach as he sees the pride Lottie is receiving for unknowingly destroying her brother.  “She should have been truthful in the first place, if she had, she would have been with Angel forever and they’d have been happy, but instead she had to shy away from that and lie.  That’s cowardly.  She put Angel’s happiness on the line because she was too frightened to break her own.”

Lottie looks across at Louis, mouth poised to fight her corner again and suggest another reason for as to why her opinion is correct but before she can even formulate another word, a timid sob slips past Louis’ lips and into her ears, her mouth falling into a concerned frown and her eyes sad as she tips her head to the side.  “What’s wrong, Lou?”

The words don’t even meet Louis’ ears before he’s rushing out of the room and the front door is slamming shut, the napkin by Louis’ abandoned plate scattered with tears that he let fall down his cheeks whilst his sister discussed all he’d done wrong in the last year. 

Niall’s sprints after him instantly, ignoring the concerned shouts that follow them down the street and refusing to give up until their bodies smash together as the bright lights come at them and their feet are sore from the impromptu journey.  They’re somewhere in the middle of Doncaster and it should be concerning that they’re here, that they just ran across the town to this building but Niall knows what it means, why they’re here.

“You sure you wanna do this?”  Niall whispers as he catches his breath, pulling Louis into his body and wrapping his arms around his waist and breathing in the boy he’s loved since the day his life truly began.

“I want to do it,” Louis whispers, voice clear and clean as he speaks, his lips brushing against the same vein in Niall’s neck that they had earlier that evening and it sends a shiver down Niall’s spine to feel the light kiss that Louis presses there.  “I want to do it for you.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Niall standing star struck in the middle of the street in the centre of Doncaster, watching his boyfriend walk into a police station, ready to rebuild his life forever, and he couldn’t be more proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:)


	178. Chapter 178

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took far too many chapters to get to but I hope you like it. Don't hate me.

The invite to Doniya’s wedding comes through the post that weekend.  It flutters through the letterbox and Harry almost wants to hide it away.  He knows they’re going, they agree that they were going to go but he’s not sure if Zayn will be able to handle it.

There’s been so much going on recently; what with Louis running away and Niall being frantic, it’s been a rush of a week and a half and Zayn doesn’t seem to have cooled down from it yet.  There’s something lingering there, something that Zayn’s still refusing to tell him and it hurts all the more knowing that it concerns Louis.

He’s not spoken to him in days and Louis hasn’t even really replied to his texts.  He knows Niall’s up in Doncaster with him and they’ve probably not got a lot of free time but the longer he’s left in the dark, the more worried he’s becoming.  He needs to know, he wants to know, but he’s also not sure he can handle knowing.

Zayn’s been called into work and is running late, the chicken and chips that Harry’s got dished up are getting gradually colder as he flicks through the photos on his phone, smiling at the ones of himself and Zayn and setting his background to the first photo they ever took together on their date to the cinema in the back of the room, giggling when the flash disturbed a couple groping each other a few seats across from them.  It will forever be his favourite photo, even if his curls look rumpled by the rain and the wind they had to run through to get to the movie theatre that night. 

“What’re you doing?” Zayn whispers as he slings his arms around Harry’s shoulders, dropping his head to drop a kiss to Harry’s cheek and looking down at the screen of his phone and grinning as wide as Harry.  “That film was still awful, no matter what you say.”

“How can you even say that!?”  Harry pouts, lowering his phone to the table and turning with frustrated eyes towards his boyfriend, and pulling him down by the lapels of his coat, sucking on Zayn’s lower lip.  “It was a masterpiece.”  He earns a moan from Zayn as he swipes his tongue across the seam of Zayn’s lips before pulling away at the last second when Zayn leans in to take it further.  “Dinner’s getting cold.”  The whine of protest is enough to make Harry remove his attention from his extremely attractive boyfriend and to his plate of food, making sure to completely ignore him.    

“You’re so cruel to me.”  Harry smirks down at his food, sticking a chip out from between his lips just because he can and he’s feeling playful with his fluffy socks and oversized jumper on.  Winter is starting to move in and with Halloween in a few days time, the cold just seems to have jumped onto him and frozen his bones.

“How was work?”  He chuckles, watching the way Zayn gets trapped inside of his coat, his hands too cold to clench and hold the buttons to undo them.   “You always forget your gloves,” Harry grins fondly, standing up to work the buttons through the holes, pressing a kiss to Zayn’s cold red nose once he’s finished.  “Now eat; forget everything else and just eat.”

Zayn sinks into the seat, slinging his coat behind his chair and positioning himself to eat, grinning across the table at Harry before he’s even begun, wrapping his feet around Harry’s ankles.  It’s a normal thing, for them, and it has Harry grinning down at his food before he shuffles his feet and budges his chair closer to the table so that their knees touch.  “How was your day off without me then, Hazza Bear?”

Harry lifts a chip to his mouth, chewing slowly and carefully as Zayn does the same before he stands up to get a drink, carrying a glass back over for Harry as well, the curly haired boy grinning when Zayn carries across a bottle of his favourite fresh juice from a plastic carrier bag.  “For you, thought you deserved it for putting up with me.”

Zayn refuses to acknowledge his complaints, instead leaning down to kiss his lips and grinning as he pours out a glassful of juice.  It’s freshly squeezed in store and far too expensive for what you get but Harry loves it and he hates that Zayn thought he had to go out of his way to buy it for him, like a thank you present of some sort for sticking around.  “You didn’t need to Zayn, all the other juices in the store are more or less the same thing but cheaper.”

He shakes his head, sitting back down in his seat and reaching across the table to interlace their fingers beside their plates.  “But I wanted to,”  They maintain eye contact for a few seconds, smiling at each other before Zayn blushes and urges them to eat their food so that they can settle down on the sofa and watch TV.  “So how was your day?”  Zayn can tell just from Harry’s frustrated pout that he missed him and it makes something flip inside of him, making him smile.

“The invitation for Doniya’s wedding came today,” They’ve almost finished eating and the invitation is burning a hole in his mind the longer it sits on the kitchen counter opposite them.  He sees Zayn’s eyes perk up, lighting up as he lowers his fork and clears his throat, asking where it is.

Zayn seems to still somewhat when he looks across at the envelope, seeing how it sits on the worktop across from them seemingly harmless, his tongue poking out of his mouth to lick across his lower lip as his eyes glaze over, his hand gradually lowering his fork towards the table before he stops and he focuses his attention back on Harry.  “We’ll look at it tomorrow,” He slides his fork back into his hand, grasping it between his fingers as he twirls it wistfully.  “I want to think about you, and you alone, tonight.”

A gentle heat settles in Harry’s cheeks as Zayn continues to look at him, his eyes glistening and bright in the gentle light of the kitchen.  There’s not much that can get Harry speechless but when Zayn speaks his mind and let’s free pieces of intimate information like that, he’s like putty in his hands.  Zayn speaks the most beautiful of words all the time and his little random quotes that he writes on scrap pieces of paper and leaves around the flat always manage to make Harry’s heart flutter and his stomach flip; he just has such a way with words and it’s magical, especially to see the words that Zayn can relate to in his life, that actually mean something to him. 

Once they’ve finished eating, Zayn picks up their plates and leaves them in the sink, taking Harry’s palm in his own and twirling him on the spot in the kitchen with a genuine smile across his lips as he pulls him into his chests, brushing a stray curl off of his face and back behind his ear.  “You know when you said you wanted to watch _The Notebook_ again?”  Harry nods his head, confused until Zayn plucks a DVD case from the bag that the juice came from and smiles widely.  “Bedroom or living room?”

They of course end up in the bedroom, the covers tucked up around them as Harry’s head rests on Zayn’s chest as they watch the film, Harry’s mouth moving with the characters’ as he recites their lines, making Zayn grin fondly, teasing his fingers through Harry’s curls.  Their bodies are pressed together and their feet are tangled at the foot of the bed as they feed each other mini marshmallows and just get lost in both the film and each other, Harry teasingly coming up to Zayn’s face with a marshmallow between his teeth and a playful glint in his eyes as their lips come together and Zayn steals the sweet with his teeth before reaching down and pecking Harry’s lips again.  Everything is so sweet between them it’s almost mind blowing as they kiss and feed each other.

Once the marshmallows are gone and the film is completely forgotten, Harry sucking on Zayn’s tongue as he moves to straddle his hips, their breathing becoming erratic between them, the phone rings.  It’s Zayn’s mobile, he can feel it vibrating in his pocket at it’s really not helping the situation right now.  “Ignore it,” Harry whispers, moving his lips from Zayn’s face to nibble on his ear, working his fingers up under Zayn’s shirt, his own jumper thrown across the room somewhere.  It’s such a tempting offer and Zayn almost does it, until the call itself ends and it starts ringing again.

“Zayn,” There’s such frustration in Harry’s voice as he whines when Zayn moves him into his side, keeping his hands on Harry’s bum and massaging it between his fingers as he works his hand into his pocket to pull out the device that’s ruined the moment entirely, pressing an apologetic kiss to Harry’s lips that the taller boy melts into.  He’s so adorable.

“What is it?” His voice probably sounds gruff and hoarse and he really doesn’t care because he just had Harry in his lap and there was so much but not enough and now it’s gone because of the person on the other end of the line and he wants to scream when Harry moves his hand down Zayn’s torso, working his fingers carefully down to his crotch and stroking across it, scraping his nail across his zipper, the sound teasing and almost painful.  He can see the pleased smirk in Harry’s eyes without having to look down at his mouth, the unforgiving arch to his lips as he continues on wordlessly with his ministrations.

He’s hardly listening to what is being said to him but he knows it’s Liam, recognises the voice, even if it is going a mile a minute and he’s not paying attention to the words that he’s saying.  “Liam, what?”  He bats Harry’s hands away when he feels him pull the zipper of his jeans down, refusing to get a hand job as he’s talking to his best friend.  Harry merely pouts and instead leans down to suck on his earlobe again, nibbling gently.  “Slow down, I can’t hear you.  Say it again.”

He focuses all of his attention on hearing what Liam has to say because the sooner he can put the phone down, the sooner he can take advantage of what Harry is giving him.  He’s still nibbling his ear, sucking kisses into the skin down his neck before sucking a bruise into Zayn’s Adam’s apple, teeth coming out to nibble before he licks at it, soothing it.  Harry’s everything, too much and yet not enough when he can’t do anything in return.  He’s breathless as he opens his mouth to speak.  “Liam.  C’mon, man, tell me what’s up or I’m putting the phone down.”

His heart stops in his chest and he stills under Harry’s ministrations, his breath hitching as he hears the words Liam’s saying, really hears them.  The frantic rush of his words, the breathless syllables that he can’t seem to push out of his lungs fast enough.  He did it.  _He did it_.  He really fucking did it.

_Zayn, the police just arrested Alex!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	179. Chapter 179

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy:)

The week carries on as normal for Louis and Niall.  They don’t talk about the police station or what was said, the only words that they share about it are a subtle “You okay?” once Louis leaves the officer’s office and they walk home and even then there’s very little too it.  Nothing really needs to be said, Louis has already said enough.

Johanna, of course, questions them with a worried glimmer in her eyes and her mouth cast into a frown when Louis says he’s fine as she pulls him into a hug.  She looks at Niall over Louis’ shoulder as they hug, her eyes asking a million questions that Niall doesn’t feel comfortable answering so he just nods and smiles, hoping to make her happy.  He’s not sure he does.

Lottie also apologises, she doesn’t appear to know what she’s done but she says sorry anyway and her and Louis sit upstairs in his room for a long time, talking and just being in each other’s company.  Niall finds the pair under the duvet of Louis’ bed when he decides it’s time to sleep; Louis’ arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he tells her how much he loves her and how he hopes to protect her forever, as she sleeps away unaware.  The two boys share an intimate smile across the room before Niall slips out and goes downstairs and sleeps on the sofa that night, smiling at the toys scattered across the floor that trip him and the piece of LEGO he lays down on.  Nothing can ruin his mood now.

He doesn’t even realise what day it is until the girls come running in from school, paper pumpkins and decorations hanging from between their fingers and Johanna’s hands full of costumes.  Louis is beside him on the sofa, they’ve been listening to some of Louis’ old albums from his bedroom, their bodies clad in Niall’s joggers and oversized t-shirts.  Louis looks downright adorable and it’s been hard for Niall to keep his hands to himself since he’s wearing his Ram’s football jersey, HORAN printed on the back.  It’s only around Louis that he becomes a possessive ass he’s noticed; he likes it.

“Niall!  Lou!  Will you come trick or treating with us?”  The girls look excited, their smiles stretching their cheeks for miles and their eyes so girlishly bright that they cannot refuse and so they make dinner as Johanna organises their costumes.

They’re all ready to go by seven o’clock.  The girls are all dressed up, Daisy as a witch, Phoebe as a pumpkin, Fizzy as a zombie and Lottie as a black cat whilst Niall and Louis raided Louis’ old school clothes and have ripped them and splattered them in fake blood to dress up as vampire school boys.  They all look pretty amazing and Johanna insists on snapping a few pictures before they go, of course having to take a bunch of ‘couples photos ’ with the boys, making them blush and smile nervously around each other until Niall playfully drops his head to Louis’ neck, mouthing at it with the excuse that he needs to feed.  The entire Tomlinson family seems to fall in love with him further and it makes something warm and amazing bubble up in Louis’ chest.

They’re not even halfway around the neighbourhood and the girls already have almost full trick or treat bags of sweets and chocolate.  It’s adorable to see how happy they get and how polite they are when they receive their treats and it makes Louis smile, leaning back in Niall’s arms and resting his head on the blonde boy’s shoulder as he watches the girls from the bottom of each garden path, letting them have some independence. 

“You taught them well,” Niall chuckles as he watches Daisy stuff some of her chocolate in her mouth the moment she receives it to limit the filling of her bag so she can collect some more later on.  The girls all giggle as they run down the path when Louis tilts his head up towards Niall’s to kiss him, their mouths slotting together in an innocent kiss that makes the girls all _ooh_ and _aww_ affectionately around them.  “They learnt from the best.”

“Not the best,” Louis mumbles as he pulls Niall’s hand to his chest, looking down and playing with his fingers.  He strokes his fingertips over the knuckles of his fingers, lost in the idea that Niall is his, that there’s something between them that makes innocent yet intimate contact like this okay.

“The best,” Niall corrects, teasing his fingers between Louis’ own and lowering his head to press a kiss to the back of Louis’ neck before trailing after the girls again.  “You’re the best to me and the girls.”

The plastic vampire teeth that he’s got in make it difficult to talk but it makes him grin when he drags a fang down the back of Louis’ neck and he shivers, melting into his embrace.  There’s so many parts of Louis’ body he wants to touch, to see, to understand how different aspects of him look and how he sounds and reacts when he gives them simple touches.  He’s always wanted it but seeing Louis’ back arch against him and hearing the hitch of his breath is making it all the more tempting.  He’s most definitely not in this relationship purely for the physical contact but he’s just got a sudden need to feel right now and he doesn’t quite know what to do with that.

Louis’ sisters drag them around the neighbourhood until quarter to nine that night.  Their breath smells of chocolate and their mouths are littered by the substance but they couldn’t care less as they skip back home, their hands entwined together as Louis and Niall’s swing between them also.  They share small kisses on the way home and they’re sweet and taste of the chocolates they’ve been feeding each other all night and their mouths lift up into happy arches as they do so, feeling their smiles slot together.

They become increasingly handsy as they near home.  Their hands had started entwined together and hanging between them but by the time they reach the final street before home Niall’s got his hand tucked in the back pocket of Louis’ trousers and Louis’ is tucked under his shirt, his palm spread across Niall’s lower back, their bodies pulled close.  They’re not going anywhere with their hands and there’s no destination that _have_ to get to but this is the closest they’ve been in a while.  Sure, they share a bed most of the time but even that is limited, for Niall fears of doing anything to potentially scare Louis and wreck what they have.  Everything they do, Louis initiates and that’s amazing, just knowing he trust Niall as much as he does but sometimes Niall just wants to be impromptus and doing something to make Louis feel like he’s worth the world.  So he does, hence why he slows them to a stop under the street lamp just before Louis’ home and watches the girls be ushered inside by Johanna and Dan before turning to the smaller boy and ducking down to kiss his lips.

It’s slow and innocent and intimate and their lips touch and the taste of candy still lingers in the crevices of Louis’ lips as Niall tastes them with his own, his left hand staying in Louis’ back pocket whilst Louis’ right travels up his back ever so slowly over the knobs of his spine until the back of his white blood-stained school shirt is hitched up and there’s a draught blowing over his skin.  It’s a sensory overload, feeling Louis react to him how he does as he slowly starts to inch his mouth open, no sense of fear or apprehension apparent in his body language or himself as a whole.  It’s mind blowing watching Louis react how he does, feeling him open up and not run away.

The other day when they’d been kissing outside of Louis’ house he’d felt some level of distrust, a sense of discomfort in Louis which had, thankfully, slipped away, but the fact it was there to start with was awful to feel.  Knowing that he was bringing back all the horrid memories that Louis had worked so hard to rid himself of was destroying.  But now, having Louis be the first one to slide his tongue across the seam of his lips gives him hope.  Hope that all the memories will be able to disappear faster now that they’re off of Louis’ chest.  He doesn’t know what he told the police, what horrors Louis’ had to keep to himself for so many months, but he knows that now that they’re finally out in the open it gives the police that final chance to be able to catch whoever broke the perfection that is his boyfriend. 

They couldn’t catch him before, but now that Louis’ revealed some more information that’s allowed him to feel safe enough to kiss Niall how he’s kissing him now, it gives him hope that they’ll catch him, that that evidence was the final missing pieces that the police needed and the final shards of danger that Louis’ pulled from his body.  That it will soon be over, just tiny scars will be left in the place of six pages worth of jagged cuts and bruises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	180. Chapter 180

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope your week is going great so far and you enjoy this chapter:)

Louis is the first one to wake up on Saturday morning and he smiles as he sees the picture the girls drew for Niall sticky taped on the wall across from his bed, joining all the others that have been hung there for years.  The one of Niall is the only one he can see when he looks that way though, nothing else on the wall matters, just the badly drawn boy with banana yellow hair, a scribbled green jumper and stick legs. 

 _The stick legs are accurate_ , he’d mumbled that night as they had fallen into bed, the picture trapped between Niall’s fingers like he never wanted to let go of it and he hadn’t even protested, just smiled down at the sheet with crinkly eyes before he’d pointed at the wall and said that the girls wanted it to go there, in the centre.  Of course it went in the centre, all of the other pictures moving to make space for it as it took pride of place.  Louis couldn’t imagine it anywhere else, other than maybe his fridge to make him have a reason to smile every morning.

Niall is snoring lightly next to him, his joggers sleep-wrinkled around his legs and his shirt ridden up where it rests against his stomach, revealing a slither of pale skin where the duvet has slipped off of his frame when Louis looks down at him.  Niall looks so soft and gentle as he sleeps, almost like a little puppy so Louis snuggles up to him, smiling when Niall’s body seems to suck him in and hold him closer as Louis slowly lets his fingers touch the bared expanse of Niall’s skin, pressing his palm flat against the warm flesh.

 It’s not as if it’s a new thing, touching Niall, but it just feels so much different now that he’s let everything out into the open, even if not everybody knows it yet.  Niall doesn’t know, he hasn’t asked and Louis is glad for that, he’s not sure he could handle telling Niall aspects of what happened, he’d rather keep his happy, smiling, gleeful boyfriend than change him by bogging him down by things that no longer matter.  He knows who attacked him, he needs no other word than his own, the police just need to prove it.

His fingers trail across Niall’s stomach, touching and pressing into the soft skin as he nuzzles his face into Niall’s chest, breathing him in and closing his eyes shut, just focusing on Niall’s steady, even breathing with a smile.  He’s so peaceful, always, there’s no way to make Niall lose it or go mental and he constantly feels safe in his presence, knows he’d do nothing to hurt him, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to him if he was able to prevent it.

He should feel something different, he knows but there’s just something that’s stopping him from feeling anything but affection for the blonde boy that’s tucked up in his childhood bed with a dreamy smile on his lips and his hair flat against his forehead, but he wouldn’t change it for the world, wouldn’t change anything about them being together, not a single thing, as crazy as he knows that sounds.

They don’t leave Louis’ bed until Johanna and the girls force them up, demanding that they wake up and spend time with them before they head off back to London tomorrow.  It’s been a short week and Louis finds himself clinging to his family more than he ever has on his previous visits, pulling his sisters into hugs and tickling their sides or blowing raspberries on their cheeks whilst hanging off of his mum and Dan, fist bumping and laughing with Dan often, whilst pulling his mum into more than enough hugs to last the entire year as the day drags on and Sunday seems to loom closer than ever.

Dan and Johanna pay to take them all out for tea that night as a send off for them and it makes Louis smile all night long, catching glimpses of his mum’s own wide grins when they maintain eye contact before she’s grabbed by one of his younger siblings and Niall’s squeezing at his hand to get his attention, pressing subtle kisses to his face and neck as the night carries on and they eat.

Louis and Niall both have plates of spaghetti bolognaise and it reminds Louis instantly of that night all those months ago that ended in him being a sobbing mess as he showed Niall the door, all due to a little bit of touching.  Friendly touching; tickling, no less.  Something he’s been happy to do all his life and yet that was ruined, but Niall came back.  He came back and he couldn’t be more thankful. 

He squeezes Niall’s hand and presses a kiss to his mouth, ignoring the giggles from his family as he shows Niall the words he’s not sure how to pronounce right now, letting his hands cup Niall’s jaw and feel the slight prickle of stubble underneath his fingers as he kisses the boy that’s made everything bright again, like his personality.  Pulling away, Niall’s cheeks are red but his eyes are wide and happy as he blinks slowly, eyes fluttering open.  “What was that for?”

“Because I love you, Niall.  I don’t say it enough but I love you, Niall James Horan and I’m so thankful for you.  No matter what happens.”

He presses his lips to Niall’s again, tucking his hand around the back of Niall’s neck so that he can get a better angle as they press their lips together, smiles set between them as the world crumbles down back in London. 

“Thank you for not leaving and for coming back when I sent you away.”  Louis breathes, stroking his thumbs across Niall’s cheeks with a smile.  “I don’t deserve it at all.”

“You deserve so much more, Lou.” Niall whispers, squeezing their conjoined hands before lifting them to his mouth, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of Louis’ hand.  “I’m sorry I can’t always give you that.”

They maintain eye contact for what feels like forever before they smile stupidly at each other, grinning like Cheshire cats at the fact they have each other as Louis lowers his head to Niall’s shoulder, playing with the blonde’s fingers on the table, his food abandoned as Niall takes over everything he has once again.  Nothing else mattering; especially not now when he’s got someone to call his everything.

The meal continues with many small touches and whispered nothings that make the boys smile and Johanna’s heart race in her chest as she watches them.  There’s something about Niall, something that seems to be able to keep Louis in one piece and happy and she couldn’t be more grateful for that.  He’s the glue that holds him together that Louis was missing at Christmas but now that he’s here, she couldn’t be happier. 

Niall looks at Louis like he hung the stars in the sky, like he’s his world and as she lies in bed that night, hearing their quiet talks through the walls of what’s next, of how Louis is feeling and if he’s too cold and whether he wants a hug, Johanna knows she’s got nothing to worry about.  Niall is everything that Louis’ dad couldn’t be to her all those years ago and it’s unfair to relate the blonde to him at all but she’s supposed to worry, she’s a mum, so when she sends them off the next day, watching how Louis slides into his own car wearing Niall’s clothes, the sleeves too long but fitting him somehow in a way that Johanna will never understand, she can’t help but hope that his and Niall’s forever lasts a lot longer than hers and Troy’s did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	181. Chapter 181

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this update took as long as it has but I hope it's worth it:)

They stop at the service station just before they hit London.  The roads haven’t been too bad but it’s a long old trek home and stepping out of his car into Niall’s welcoming arms is what he’s been longing for. 

He’s all wide shoulders and long arms, thin torso with muscle rippling underneath it as Louis trails his hands up his sides under the thick hoodie that Niall’s nestled in.  His skin prickles upon the contact, as if electrocuted.  Niall’s skin is warm to the touch and he smells like home as Louis nestles his face in Niall’s shoulder, savouring the feeling before they duck themselves back into their respective cars for the final leg of their trip, not before grabbing a coffee from the services and sipping them slowly just to remain in each other’s presence a little bit longer.

 When they hit London, it’s mayhem.  There are cars everywhere, people littering the streets and hopping between car bonnets and boots, their winter coats flapping in the wind behind them and it’s nothing like Doncaster, is all that flows through Louis’ brain, his family on his mind; nothing at all. 

Louis is all locked up in his car, Niall’s jumper bunched up around his wrists as his hands tighten on the steering wheel, all the memories flooding back in waves as he stops at a red light, but for once, he’s above them.  Sure, there’s some saltwater in his mouth, but he’s not drowning, he’s floating, sailing almost.  Alex’s face is in the back of his mind and that’s where it stays without it scaring him.  He’s safe.

 He’s in London but he’s safe and if that doesn’t feel amazing, with the scent of Niall under his nose from the jumper and the blonde boy in the car behind him singing along to the radio making him smile wide into the bright lights of the city in front of him, then nothing will.

Louis flicks his eyes up to his mirror as they drive, watching as Niall sings along to the radio all the way home, rocking out in the front seat, completely oblivious to everyone and everything that isn’t him and the music in his ears and Louis can see him then, can see him sat in a flat with his guitar in his lap as he sings, strumming at the cords and playing around with melodies as Louis watches on the sofa opposite, smiling into his tea as the blonde boy’s fingers work effortlessly over the strings and his voice entwines with the notes. 

It’s all very domestic and maybe he should slow his thoughts down a little since he’s only 21 but as he watches Niall smile how he does with his eyes glistening and bright, even in the dead of night as the rain starts to tumble down from the sky, there’s nothing that scares him more than not seeing that happen.   He’s never looked towards the future with anyone he’s been with really, everyone he’s been in a relationship with has either moved on too fast for the thoughts to develop or he’s just never toyed with the thought at all, but with Niall, that’s all he wants and he’s the only one Louis can see himself doing that with.

The key Niall has to Louis’ flat burns a hole deep in Louis’ pocket; it has all week.  He knows it doesn’t belong with him and he’s more than happy to admit that but by giving the key to Niall he fears it may mean something more, something Niall may not fully accept.  Louis has fallen in love with him, despite everything that’s been working against them, sober or not.

And that’s why as they pull up in front of Louis’ flat, the holdall that Niall packed for him still full of unworn clothes in Niall’s slender fingers, Louis pushes him back against the door of his car, pressing his lips forcefully to Niall’s own and letting his hands run wild in Niall’s hair and across his skin, letting himself explore what’s scared him for so long, gasping when Niall returns the affection, the holdall falling between them somewhere on the wet pavement beneath them.

Louis’ mind is elsewhere however as he licks into Niall’s mouth and just breathes Niall in, feeling, tasting and loving every part of him until Louis’ skin is alight and his blood whizzes through his veins, making everything seem just a little bit more intense, but he’s ready.  So he takes Niall’s hand, slipping his fingers through Niall’s own and pulling him towards the door to the block of flats he’s lived in since he moved to London, his mind racing but ready as he pulls them through the building, slipping Niall’s key to the flat into the lock and twisting it in the hole, hands shaking as he tries to get it right and once he’s done and the door is swinging open with them falling through it, he presses his lips back to Niall’s and shows him everything he wants to say with words too explicit for the streets outside and acts too intimate to perform in the middle of his living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	182. Chapter 182

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all those of you that have been on this roller coaster with me, this is probably the chapter you've waited almost a year for. I apologise...

No one tells him anything as he sits in the foyer of the police station, his joints stiff and his muscles aching from being kept in the same position for too long as officers and offenders walk past him, but all he can see is the large metal door that Alex was walked through, hands chained up in a pair of handcuffs just hours before.

He’s not moved in hours and he’s sure that the receptionists behind the front desk are talking about him but he couldn’t care less when all he can feel is confusion and hurt and regret for not knowing why Alex has been taken away from him.  It’s all so overwhelming and the only thing that has calmed him somewhat has been hearing Zayn’s voice over the phone which is matched with the sight of seeing Zayn’s face as he pushes through the front entrance to the station, his hair flat against his forehead and Harry trailing behind him, their bodies clad in coats that don’t appear to have kept off the thick lashes of rain that have been coming down in sheets for the past ten minutes.

He breaks down the moment that Zayn’s fingers first pull him into a hug and he knows his sobs sound ugly so he quietens them down as much as he can but he just doesn’t know what to do or why he’s here and he can hardly contain himself as he thinks about all the reasons his mind is formulating for as to why they’re here. 

Him and Alex had been curled up in bed watching TV together and just letting the world blur on around them, sharing lazy kisses that made wide smiles spread between themselves as they’d shuffled down the bed sheets, tucking them under their chins until there’d been a harsh knocking on the front door of his flat that ended in Alex been bundled up into the back of a police car as Liam begged to know what was going on.

“I don’t know what to do, Zee.”  He whispers, throat clogging up.  “I don’t know what’s happening, t-they wouldn’t tell me anything.”  Zayn’s fingers in the short hairs at the nape of his neck help to control him and centre his breathing but everything still feels as if it’s spinning out of control, nothing quite right anymore.  “Zayn, I d-don’t know what to do.”

Harry goes to fetch them coffee every so often as they sit and wait in the waiting area and he’s a generally bright presence that helps to keep Liam’s eyes off of the large metal door across the other side of the room, but sometimes he just can’t help his eyes from wandering and his mind from thinking about what could be happening to Alex behind that door when there’s nobody to tell them to stop.  It’s the single most terrifying thing he’s ever experienced.

They’ve been sat there well over an hour and a half together and it feels like years to Liam as he’s not left his chair for the past three hours or so and his muscles creak and crack the instant he stands up, raising himself out of his chair slowly and carefully so he can go and ask at the front desk again for more information to try and figure out why Alex is here.

He’s barely got himself stood up straight when the hinges of the door creak to life, just a gentle almost empty sound that Liam’s ears don’t pick up until the last second as he turns his head, looking across at the man who just hours prior had been curled up in his bed peacefully and happily but the thick black bags under his eyes tell a different story.

He looks as if he’s been beaten up, both psychologically and physically as he shuffles through the door, two police officers by his side as he’s walked towards another door across from the large metal one.  Liam’s jumping towards him before the officers can think anything of it and he’s clutching tightly at the oversized shirt that Alex stole from his drawers to sleep in just hours before.  Alex feels considerably smaller under his hands as he hugs him, fighting off the officers that try to pull him away as he holds onto Alex’s face, asking if he’s okay, what’s happened and telling him that they’re gonna go home soon through his tears and it’s then that Liam sees the devastation in Alex’s eyes.  “Liam.”

His fingers seem to lose his grip as he hears the defeated tones of Alex’s voice, sees the brokenness in Alex’s eyes and how he holds himself more or less stock still whilst Liam’s peeled off of him until he’s walked swiftly towards the barred door, not bearing a second glance to the sobbing man that’s fallen into Zayn and Harry’s arms.

His body disappearing behind the door like the happiness in Liam’s soul, the shattering of the door closing shooting arrows through Liam’s heart and he’s sure it didn’t hurt this much when Alex punctured his heart the first time but feeling his heart bleed into his chest has him gasping, as if drowning in everything he ever wanted, and if he wasn’t choking on his own tears he’d probably run after Alex and beg him to tell him why his name sounded like a goodbye on his lips but with his butchered heart dripping inside of him like a broken tap, all he can think is that maybe there never was a hello, just a fleeting hi.  That their words meant nothing, nothing more than a here and now, no future promises behind their words despite how Alex made them sound; and maybe there never were any arrows because he sure as hell can’t feel them now as he slides down onto the cold, dirty tiles of the police station, his eyes red and his throat raw as his tears stop and his heart dies inside of him, the words ‘rape’ and ‘overnight’ like bullets in his ears as the police officer ignores his pleas for information, too lost in his work as he organises his duties, filing those words under Alex’s name.

Liam’s not sure how he got home, not sure when he left the station but he feels his tears trickle down over his pillow under his head when he looks across the mattress, his arm out subconsciously looking for the hand that will never take his again and his restrains buckle, more salty tears springing from his eyes and over his bed sheets until there’s nothing but hoarse, dry sobs that wrack through his entire being and leave his throat tightening uncontrollably, as if suffocating him.

Closing his eyes all he sees is the man he gave everything to and it makes him sick to his stomach, seeing his face in his happiest memories when the word ‘rapist’ labels his very being.  Knowing that he’s such a man as to steal and break and rip and tear someone apart despite how he acts around Liam.  And that’s probably what hurts the most.  Knowing there are two sides to him.  That Liam didn’t even fall in love with the person that Alex actually is.  He may beg that he’s not a rapist, that he didn’t do it, and there is a likely chance that he won’t be charged for it and that sickens Liam to his stomach but what’s worse is knowing that he loved something fake.  He loved a cover story and that cover story never loved him.  He was just a pawn in a greater game.

He doesn’t go to work the next day, doesn’t feel he can face it so calls in sick and he’s not ashamed to say he quits his job the moment that his boss implies that he and Alex are having a ‘dirty day’ in bed together and raced to the toilet, leaving his mobile abandoned on his pillow, dry retching at mere thought.  The idea of what he’d let himself be dragged into.

Zayn comes to see him but he doesn’t answer the door, instead leaves it locked and lies on the sofa, watching the ceiling as he listens to Zayn talk through the door but he can’t answer, doesn’t know what to say when Zayn asks him if he’s alright, because he’s not, he just doesn’t want to say that.  Not when he needs to be strong; he wasn’t the one who was raped.

His body starts to shake when he thinks about Alex’s victim, about the person he raped and it all starts to fall into place, the random meetings with his brother and the nights he was home a little bit later than normal.  Little things that didn’t even make sense or worry him in the slightest until he saw the bigger picture and everything slotted into place, making his heart clench and twist and wring painfully inside of his ribs.

He slides his phone into his pocket, reaching for his keys and unlocking the door, completely oblivious to Zayn falling through it as he runs down the stairs of the apartment building, Zayn trailing behind him as he runs the streets of London, his blood pumping wildly through his veins and his eyes wide as he turns the corner onto the street he wants, legging it up the grimy stairs of the building to the top floor where the graffiti becomes a little bit darker and the flurry of dog barks a little bit more ferocious but there’s a fire in his veins that keeps him going, his eyes wild and manic as he slams his fist against the door, demanding attention.

He’s met with eyes that match Alex’s, the same shape and size as they’re settled in his slightly larger but near identical face, a single ring of blue surrounding his pupils that are otherwise enveloped in pure, unquestionable midnight black, a dead glaze to them.  “We need to talk about your brother, Max.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	183. Chapter 183

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I didn't update yesterday, I have no excuse other than homework, which apparently is never in short supply when you're an A Level student, who knew? Hope you enjoy:)

Waking up in Louis’ bed is a strange feeling, especially when their clothes are thrown somewhere across the room, obviously vacant from their bodies as Niall wakes up with his nose in the dip between Louis’ shoulder blades, his hands wrapped around Louis’ waist, Louis’ fingers entwined with his own on Louis’ soft stomach. 

Watching Louis makes him smile as he slowly lifts himself up onto his elbows, Louis rolling over at the loss of contact and smiling again when he catches grasp of Niall’s hand again.  He’s so precious and just looking at the soft smile on Louis’ lips has Niall’s heart hammering as he lowers his face down to Louis’ pressing his lips to Louis’ pretty pink ones, determined not to wake him but to taste Louis’ early morning smiles anyway.  They’ve shared a bed before and woken up together but it’s never been quite as intimate as this and seeing Louis how he does makes him want to never go back to what they had.  A taste of perfection has him desperate for nothing less.

He doesn’t succeed in his aim however and he feels Louis’ body start to twitch under him as Louis awakens, his body stiffening before falling lax as Louis squeezes at his fingers, his voice hoarse with sleep.  “Nialler?”

“Yup,” Niall presses his face deeper into Louis’ shoulder blades feeling Louis steady intakes of breath under his lips.  “It’s me, Lou.” 

Louis turns in his arms, moving himself so that he’s pressed up against Niall’s chest, his arms wrapped around Niall’s waist, fingers brushing into the dips in the bottom of his spine.  “I’m sorry this took so long,”  He presses his lips to Niall’s chest, their subtle dips and dives of cracks and crevices feeling so magical against his skin that he’s unable to do little more than smile, pulling Louis closer and kissing his head before slipping his fingers under Louis chin and making him look up at him.

His eyes are shining and blue in the slither of light that slips into the room from between the curtains, making him look ethereal and impossibly beautiful and Niall just has to kiss him again; has to feel and taste and explore the perfection that Louis is.  “I waited for perfection; I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

He strokes his hair off of Louis’ forehead, tucking it back behind his ears as they lay in the sheets, the morning passing by in front of them until Louis’ alarm goes off and he knows he has to get up, that he’s had a week with Niall and now he needs to free him, even if it’s only for a short while. 

“C’mon, Nialler,” Louis attempts to tease Niall’s fingers off of his waist but it’s no use when Niall just shuffles them deeper under the sheets, pulling Louis impossibly closer and ducking his head down to blow a raspberry into Louis’ shoulder, making the smaller boy laugh.

“But I don’t wanna go to work,” Niall whines, hiding his head in Louis’ skin and kissing at it as he twists Louis in his arms, making him lay on his belly, their chests pressed together.  “You can’t make me go to work.”  Louis cocks his eyebrow at Niall, earning him a satisfied smirk that makes his heart melt in his chest as he attempts to push himself off of Niall to hide his red cheeks, smile wide and cheesy but Niall’s fingers are too quick and it reminds Louis of that time in this very flat when Niall had tickled him and he’d pushed him away but this time he falls into him, laughing despite how hard he tries as he wraps his arms around Niall’s frame, hugging him tight and hiding his face in Niall’s neck.

He’s not sure when he starts to tear up but he does and he swallows them down before Niall notices them, lifting his head and pressing a kiss to Niall’s mouth, unashamed as he clambers up Niall’s body and slots their lips together passionately, their hands entwined on the mattress next to them as they take each others’ breath away again.

“Thank you.”

Niall shakes his head at the smaller boy, his eyes fond and loving as he takes Louis’ hand in his, turning it over so his palm is facing upwards, tracing the creases in his skin, trailing his fingers upwards so that they follow the veins that twist up Louis’ arms until he hits his chest, pressing a kiss onto his heart.  “It is what it is, but I’m glad I got to share it with you.”

Niall doesn’t leave time for Louis to answer, instead taking his hand and guiding him out of the duvet and towards the shower, switching it on for him and checking the temperature before leaving Louis to wash on his own, unsure for as to what boundaries Louis still has set in place; but when Louis reaches his hand out to stop Niall from stepping out of the bathroom door, he knows what Louis is asking and it feels amazing, stepping under the hot spray of the shower and feeling Louis’ soft skin under his fingers making his own skin ignite and prickle, knowing he’s there as he lathers up Louis’ body and cleans him off, pressing kiss after kiss to his body and just showing his affection for the boy that stole his heart and gave him his own in return.

Louis is late to work that morning but Perrie doesn’t mention it, just smiles at him and watches as Niall un-slips his hand from Louis’ and presses a kiss to his cheek before heading off to his respective work place, before telling him that he’s got a pallet of Barbie dolls to organise onto shelves at the back of the store.

It doesn’t take him that long and he’s glad because his muscles ache after a while, his body used to lazing in Doncaster and not physical labour back in London but he loves it anyway and he almost doesn’t want to go on his lunch break but his phone has been buzzing intermittently in his pocket for the last hour and he knows he needs to look at it.

3 missed calls and four texts from Zayn and one message from Niall.

He reads Niall’s first, smiling down at his screen as Niall says he’s bringing lunch for them and that he’ll meet him there in around 10 minutes.  His attention then flicks to the multiple attempts at contact that Zayn has made and his heart hammers in his chest as his phone loads up his messages.

_Hey Niall, call me back yeah? - Z x_

_Niall please, it’s important.  Ring me back as soon as possible, yeah?- Z x_

_You’re probably at work, I’m sorry but when you get this ring me yeah?  We need to talk. - Z x_

_Don’t answer Liam if he calls or texts.  Come to me.  We need to talk.  I’m sorry, just ring me yeah?  Thanks.  Hope you enjoyed Doncaster :) - Z x_

He stares down at his phone confused before his heart picks up in his chest and he backs against the wall behind him, pulling his phone to his ear as he presses the call button, crouching against the wall outside the back of the toy shop, cigarette butts and miscellaneous items scattered around him.  The dial tone takes too long and his breath hitches when Zayn speaks into the microphone and he’s not sure what to expect and the longer he’s left not knowing is making him feel increasingly sick.

“Lou?”

“Yeah, ” Louis breathes, eyes flicking around.  “It’s me.”  His hands are shaking as he holds his phone to his ear, stomach churning uneasily as he waits for Zayn to cut the small talk and get to the point.

“They got Alex.” Zayn’s words strike him in the chest and the wobble that was in his hands transfers to his breathing, his voice shaking and his jaw shivering as he tries to will the tears to disappear that want to spill over his cheeks.  “They got him, Lou.  Whatever you said helped them and they got him.  I’m so proud of you, Lou.”

“Liam.”

“Louis, no don’t.  Everything’s fine.  You’re safe and you’re getting justice for what happened, yeah?  Just focus on that.”

“But _Liam_ ,” Louis tears spill over as he pictures how Liam used to slot so effortlessly into Alex’s side, as if it was the only place he belonged and looking back now, he probably did and Louis has taken that away from him now.  “Zayn he doesn’t deserve that.  He shouldn’t have to pay for Alex’s mistakes.”  He’s taken away Liam’s version of Niall and he knows just how much that hurts and knowing he’s done to that to someone else makes him dry heave into the alleyway, overcome with emotions as he listens to Zayn’s soothing words, unable to take them in.  “ _I_ took Liam’s Niall.”

He hangs up the phone when he sees nothing but tears, his vision clouded by their salty wetness, tipping his head back against the wall to try and blink back the tears that he’s not yet shed, but it’s no use, especially not when he hears Niall’s voice a little way off.

“Alex.”  Louis’ heart catapults out of his chest when he hears Niall’s voice, the broken, despairing sound of it just a few metres off and when he opens his eyes, his tears falling down his cheeks and clearing his vision somewhat and Niall’s hands are clenched into fists by his sides, the skin white and tight as he grits his teeth, his eyes sad and apologetic before it’s instantly replaced by a rage that courses through his whole body, transforming Niall into something Louis has never seen before and it scares him more than anything when Niall doesn’t respond to him in the slightest, only stopping himself from marching down the road, his breathing heavy when Louis drapes himself over his back, tears soaking into Niall’s thin polo shirt.

“Please don’t.”  He hiccups, pressing his face deeper into Niall’s clothing, breathing him in.  “It is what it is.”

The fight seems to dispel from Niall’s body at Louis’ use of his earlier words, his body deflating and falling against the nearest wall with Louis in his arms as he holds him tightly, oblivious to all of the people that stare at them as they kiss passionately in the middle of the street, tears falling between them at a rate that Niall’s fingers are unable to match. 

“It is what it is, but we’re gonna fix that.  He won’t get away with this.” Niall promises, pressing his forehead to Louis’ own, meeting his eyes.  “He deserves to be punished for hurting you, even if that means hurting Liam.”  He latches their pinkies together, tipping his lips up slightly as he presses his forehead to Louis’ own.  “Promise me you’ll do this for yourself and no one else.  No one else matters but you now.  Be selfish for once, Lou.”

The press of Louis’ lips to Niall’s is promise enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	184. Chapter 184

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy:)

The determination inside of Alex’s eyes seems to be presented tenfold inside of Max’s eyes.  They’re darker than Alex’s, as if they’ve seen more horrific things, and Liam’s not sure why he’s questioning how horrific the things he’s seen are when his boyfriend has just been arrested for committing rape in his place.

The room smells strongly of smoke and the ceiling is stained with a gruesome yellow that appears to seep down the walls in little tracks, as if the nicotine has slid down the wallpaper in tacky magnolia channels.  The room is dirty, clothes thrown across the back of the shabby sofa in the centre of the room and used dinner plates piling up at the foot of the sofa, a collection of glasses and mugs bordering them.

“What can I do for you, Liam?” His voice is rough and he looks as if he’s more or less just woken up, his hair straggly atop his head underneath the beanie that’s roughly thrown over his head, whilst his jaw is littered with a dash of stubble that looks as unhygienic as his apartment.  He’s got a grin on his lips that looks almost predatory, but with the hammering of his heart working its way through his veins, Liam’s more than ready for a fight if it comes to that.

“You can fix your mistake.” Max cocks his head to the side, smile still apparent on his lips.  “Alex was arrested yesterday,” His eyes widen as if intrigued by the name of his twin brother coming into the conversation again before he schools his expression, an icy chill evident in his eyes.  “Can you guess what for?”  If Max wants to play a game, Liam’s more than happy to play along with him; so long as he wins.

“Not buying his toy-boy flowers?”  There’s venom behind his words that Liam shakes off, far too interested in getting his boyfriend out of police custody than he is in putting himself inside as well for GBH.

“Try again.” Liam leans his body against the wall opposite where Max has sunken himself down onto his grotty sofa.  He now understands why Alex never took him inside of Max’s flat whenever they met up with him, instead picking him up and heading out with him from there.  “You’re not very good at playing games, are you, Max?”

He’s almost certain he hears the older boy growl between his teeth, snarling under his breath, eyes flashing and Liam can barely think about how Max’s victim must have felt, being cornered by such animalistic actions.

“I’m good enough.  I’ve played them for a long time.  Almost a year in fact.”  He clicks his tongue, pushing himself off of the sofa and coming up to Liam’s face, their noses just millimetres away.  “So really who’s no good at playing games, Liam?”

Liam’s certain he’s playing with him, he can see it in the way he cocks his lip upwards, sharp canines sinking into his lip as he laughs manically before walking away, heading off towards the kitchen.  Liam’s left in the shadows of the room as Max wanders around in the kitchen, the tap running before he’s walking back out with a glass of water, a collection of pills in his palm, and Liam feels a little bit sick at the fact he’s sharing air with this monster.

“I still don’t understand why you’re here Liam; it’s not as if I can help Alex.  They were his own actions after all,” There’s a glimmer in Max’s eyes and Liam’s jaw twitches, his knuckles clenching and unclenching next to him to allow him to let off some steam.  “What do you want me to do; bail a guilty man out of jail?”

Liam’s nostrils flare but he keeps his composure despite the fact his heart is hammering in his chest and he’s almost certain he’s red in the face, his blood pressure rising; he just wants to punch something.  All those years of boxing as a kid and the time when he truly needs and wants to hit something, he can’t; Liam snorts.

“You can’t bail yourself out of jail, Max.” Liam crosses his arms over his chest, feeling his muscles flex and it’s just not helping the tension that’s building up inside of him, knowing he could take the scrawny boy with no doubt illegal substances running through his system.  “I mean only guilty men belong in prison.”

Max’s upper lip twitches into a smile as he raises his glass to his mouth, swallowing slowly and deliberately, his Adam’s apple bobbing.  “Are you trying to call me a rapist?”  His eyes are challenging and Liam steps up to the challenge, pushing himself off of the wall and up in Max’s space, feeling the rancid breath of the older man hit is face unceremoniously.  He’s shorter than Alex, probably stands as tall as Niall and it’s almost cute how Max doesn’t look threatened in the slightest when there’s barely anything on him; no meat or muscles, just skin and bone when Liam’s built to fight and defend.

“I don’t need to brand you as something that you already know you are.” Liam states, voice call and crisp in the muggy air of the room as he tips his head down, watching Alex carefully and seeing how he reacts to that comment, seeing the greasy smirk spread across his lips like a pandemic disease.

“Now, now Liam that’s no way to speak to your boyfriend’s brother, is it?” A devious smirk spreads across Max’s lips.  “Not that he can be anymore really, can he?  What when he’s going to be eaten alive in prison for being a rapist,” He cocks his head to the side, eyes sharp.  “And not just any rapist, but a gay rapist.  I’ll be surprised if he gets out intact.”

The defeated look in Alex’s eyes earlier makes a little bit more sense as Liam listens to Max, taking in the words that make him feel sick to the stomach. He’s not sure what to think or how to react but when his fist collides with Max’s jaw it’s completely intentional and he basks in the shock of pain that shoots through his knuckles as Max goes reeling back onto the sofa, his eyes rolling into the back of his head before a red mark forms on his cheek, stark and bright against the paleness of his skin.

“Nice shot Liam,” Max rubs at his jaw, teasing his fingers over it as if it’ll make it better; it won’t, Liam knows from experience and he’s more than glad to have placed a punch there that will hurt for days and stay for weeks.  “But hurting me isn’t going to protect your precious boyfriend, is it now?  Or are you just trying using me to see how bruises will look on Alex’s skin the next time you see him, in an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs?”

The smug smile on Liam’s lips falls before it’s even truly begun, as he clenches his hands in the front of Max’s shirt, pulling the smaller boy up like a rag doll and pushing him against the wall.  “He’s your brother.”  Liam spits, lips in a harsh line and teeth clenched.  “Your _twin_ brother and yet you haven’t even got the balls to protect him from _your_ mistakes.”  Liam’s hands loosen on Max’s shirt, his left hand still clenched tightly in the fabric whilst his right raises up to Max’s face, the dark haired male seemingly unfazed by Liam’s hand before it comes down on his jaw, his fingertips pressing into the broken blood vessels beneath the skin that are starting to form a purple bruise on his skin and he yelps out, biting at his lip until it bleeds, eyes clenched as he sucks in breaths that don’t help him in the slightest when Liam forces his fingers harder into the skin, desperate to make Max pay, even if it’s not the extent he wants.  It’ll make for a great mug-shot though; Liam will make sure of that.

He leaves Max in a crumpled pile on the grotty floor of his flat once he’s kneed him in the stomach and he’s fallen down to the floor in a broken mess, gasping for breath.  There’s a smile on Liam’s lips as he hears the defeated grumbles of Max as he walks down the hall, taking the steps one by one, his knuckles sore as he wraps his hands around the railing on the way down but it’s just white noise in the background of his mind as the cold November air hits his face, igniting flames inside of his heart the closer he gets to where he needs to be, the bolts of blue flashing lights igniting around him before he pushes open the door, ready and waiting to be turned away until he tells them of his news, the evidence he has, demanding to be heard. 

He is, and mottled bruise forming on Max’s jaw is pulled past him in a blur as he takes a seat in the waiting room having given his statement.  There’s nothing else he can do but wait for his boy, his body aching but his heart alive and well in his chest as the possibility of holding Alex again builds inside of him, until his world shatters in a mix of blonde and brunette.

There are weak smiles on their lips as the walk past him up towards the front desk and are instantly directed towards the large door on the opposite side of the room, their hands entwined before they part, soft lips pressing together before the blonde turns around and the slither of doubt that Liam had in his mind is gone, his name on his lips as the brunette follows the officer Liam spoke to just hours before and he knows them both, and that’s what hurts the most. 

“Niall?”  The blonde responds to the name and Liam smiles weakly before the brunette flicks his head around at the last minute before he follows the officer through the door and the air inside of his lungs is kicked out like he had done to Max just hours before.  Louis. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have any comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3


	185. Chapter 185

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I am an absolute idiot I wrote the name Tom for Alex's brother and I've got absolutely no idea why since Tom is not even a character in this story so I'm not sure why I used that in the last chapter, so ignore that haha! Meet Max instead.

Walking into the police station has got to be one of the most frightening experiences of his life, despite having Niall’s hand trapped between his own.  He had gotten the call just under an hour earlier and he was fine.  He had composed himself and had been ready since he walked into the police station up in Doncaster and yet standing in the waiting area as he gives his details to the officer behind the desk is making him feel increasingly sick.

His palms are sweating, but Niall makes no sound of complaint, just wraps his arm around Louis’ waist and presses a kiss to his cheek, whispering that it’ll all be okay.  He’s not told the blonde why he’s here but he’s sure Niall has an idea, even if he’s not been explicitly told but Louis just wants to do this and get it out of the way but when he sees Liam in the waiting area it all becomes just a little bit more real and he has to repeat Niall’s words in his head, sucking in breaths.

He knows what’s behind that door and it scares him despite the fact that Alex won’t actually see him but the fact that he’ll be so close makes Louis’ spine tingle and knowing that Liam is just meters away, looking distressed and broken, just enhances his nerves but as he presses a final kiss to Niall’s lips, going wobbly at the knees both due to his own stress and his determination to kiss Niall how he deserves to be kissed before he manages to find the strength to follow the officer.  But once Niall is gone and he’s hidden behind the closed door that Louis just walked through, his walls come tumbling down and he’s sucking in harsh breaths before he even reaches the room the officer wants him in, heart hammering.

“Right, Louis, my name is Detective Ben Thatcher, you may not remember me but I’ve been following your case and some vital evidence was brought to our attention earlier this morning which has affected our investigation,” Louis’ breath hitches but the detective doesn’t appear to notice as he holds open a door for Louis to walk through, directing him to an area with a single row of seating across the back wall and a glass partition through the middle. “And because of this new information we need your full cooperation to successfully bring about a charge against your attacker.  Do you understand?”  Louis nods, numb; he’s seen this room countless times in detective shows and he feels dizzy as he walks inside, instantly taking a seat, his head fuzzy.

Detective Thatcher talks some more and Louis nods and hums his approval, desperate to leave the room as his eyes stay focused on the wall of glass, the light behind it turned off so that all he can see is darkness and he feels uneasy knowing that his attacker is in the same light as he first saw him in.  There’s a generally uneasy feeling throughout the room as another police officer enters, stepping forward with documents for Louis to sign before sitting at the desk to the side, her finger poised over a recording device, expression trained into one of neutrality.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Louis?” Detective Thatcher asks, moving across the room to where Louis is sat, his body shaking and his lip caught between his teeth, Niall’s house key caught in his pocket, the only thing keeping him grounded.  Niall’s outside.  It’s okay.  He sucks in a deep breath, standing slowly from his seat and moving across towards the glass, placing his hands around the metal bar under the sill, certain he won’t be able to keep himself up right if he doesn’t.

“Ready?”

The lights are bright and the black and white wall hits him first, reading across the numbers, ready and waiting with his eyes poised on the 6ft line, certain his attacker stands that tall and as the door on the opposite side of the glass creaks open and a lone police officer walks in trailed by six different men, Louis’ breath hitches.  Alex.

He’s the first third one in the room and Louis’ hands tighten around the bar, his palms sweating as his knees start to buckle.  Alex doesn’t lift his head, his black plaque with the number 3 held loosely between his hands as he slows to a stop at the board, his head just under 6ft 3.

Louis watches, confused, standing on his tiptoes to look at Alex’s feet and he’s stood flat on the floor, his posture good and his legs straight and not on his tiptoes, like Louis is.  He’s at full, natural height.  He keeps watching regardless, trying to figure out what’s changed, he’s certain that the man who attacked him was Alex, he knows it was, can see his face bright and clear and clean and crisp in his mind and he feels a frustrated tear cling to his eyelashes as he keeps looking at Alex, determined to make him fit his memories.

He’s everything that Louis remembers; tall and lanky with no muscles, dark hair across his forehead and thin lips.  His eyes large and dark and when Louis looks closer, sees his eyes and watches them carefully his breath hitches; his world crumbling down.

Alex has blue eyes.

Detective Thatcher moves behind him, coming up beside him and placing a soothing hand on his arm, somewhat supporting him when he feels like he’s going to fall to nothing.  “Is he there?”

Louis looks down at his hands, trying to fix his rampant breathing, watching how Niall’s bracelet slides down his wrist to his hand, sitting perfectly against his skin.  It’s a woven bracelet and he’d only been joking when he’d teased it off of Niall’s wrist and slipped it over his own a few nights ago but the moment that Niall had seen it on his wrist, it was destined to stay, tied tight but still loose enough for it to not be painful, around his wrist and just looking at it makes Louis smile and he knows that Niall’s with him, can feel the support that Detective Thatcher is unable to give him when the thread sits against his skin. 

_“Promise me you’ll do this for yourself and no one else.”_

He lifts his head from his hands, flicking his eyes up towards the glass again, focusing on Alex and he sighs; it can’t be him.  He couldn’t have attacked him.  The face is wrong somehow and he knows what he saw.  He knows the face and Alex has that face but his eyes are wrong and he’s too tall.  His attacker was, at most, 6ft 1 but looking at Alex he’s 6ft 3 at least and he wants to slam his fists against the glass and watch it shatter into a million pieces because he thought he was winning this.  He believed he was picking up the final pieces of his life and hiding them away from his attacker’s hands at last, but watching Alex with his blue eyes and his too long body, he feels everything shatter once again.

He blinks back tears of frustration before he flicks his eyes towards Detective Thatcher who looks unsure for as to what to do now but as he turns his head, he sees it.  6ft.  The man at the end, number 6.  He sucks in a breath, sure he’s seeing things but when he moves his eyes across the room again and Alex is still holding the board that says number 3 he feels his heart race.

He’s tall with dark hair that sweeps over his forehead, body lanky and lacking muscle but his eyes are cold, dark and empty and the nightmares that Louis had learnt to keep back come flooding in again.  It’s him. 

Looking at his hands he can feel the force of his fingers against his skin as he held and hushed and prodded and poked and scratched and scraped him, his skin on fire just at the sight of him and he can feel the areas where he touched, the fire burning deep inside of him and under his skin, as if reignited that he can barely stand to look at him anymore.

His eyes are dark, unforgiving and Louis can see in them an inky blackness that not even midnight can achieve.  It’s almost as if there’s nothing there, just a plain, deep darkness that holds nothing but empty air and space, as if tempting someone to fall inside of it.  And Louis did.

The club was dark, strobe lights the only source of light to pass his eyes every so often as the music drummed its way around the walls, bouncing off of the floors and the ceiling, as if magnifying the noise.  The night air was cold and brisk against his bare arms, but that didn’t matter when the man was pressed up against him, his chest pressed to Louis’ back like they had been in the club when he’d grinded up against him, causing the taller man to buy him countless drinks before offering to walk him home.  He never got home that night. 

He was found in an alleyway just a few blocks away from the club the next morning, midnight black eyes unforgiving in his mind as a shock of blonde hair and confused, drunk blue eyes gave him hope as the police picked him up, taking him in for questioning and photographing his injuries, their eyes searching for countless answers he couldn’t provide them with when all Louis wanted to know was the name of the blonde that had given him hope when he was left with nothing else. 

_“No one else matters but you now.”_

Niall’s words ring in his ears as he takes one final look at the man who took everything but gave him his everything.  He’s nothing to be afraid of with his bruised jaw and clothes that make him look homeless and he’s not sure what he was thinking when he touched that guy without knowing his name because apparently he knew nothing, but he does now.

“Number 6, what’s his name?”

Detective Thatcher looks split for a second as he shares a look with his colleague at the table, the recorder still going between them before he speaks, apparently adhering the subtle shake of the head of his partner.

“I’m not allowed to tell you, it could compromise our entire investigation.”

_“Be selfish for once, Lou.”_

“His name would be useful so I could tell the apparent twins apart, don’t you think?”  His voice is hard, unforgiving as he faces forwards towards the men behind the glass and he knows he’s won, can see it in Detective Thatcher’s reflection in the glass, his puff of breath fogging up the glass wall pane.

“Max; that’s all I can tell you.”  It’s then that it hits him.  Max.  He’d said his name was Max, his voice smooth and slick as he’d whispered in Louis’ ear, flashing a smile at the bar tender and getting them each a drink without having to wait to be served.  Max.  The name sounds so innocent and pure but looking at him, he’s anything but.

Louis’ hands tighten around the bar, leaning forwards against the glass just for one final check and he can feel Detective Thatcher’s bated breath as he leans forward also, watching, as if he’s looking for the clue that he’s missed that Louis is somehow seeing.

“Number 6.  It was number 6.  Number 3 is too tall, I’m certain.”

“You’re certain?”  Detective Thatcher doesn’t move an inch as he waits for Louis to respond.  “I’m sorry but we need you to verbalise it, so we can get it on tape.  Louis William Tomlinson, you’re certain it is number 6 in our police line-up that attacked and raped you on November 17th 2013?”

“Yes, I am certain.  It was number 6.”


	186. Chapter 186

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to say the biggest thank you to every single one of you that has clicked on this story and allowed me to write this monster. Without your continued support, even if you just clicked on the story and hated the first chapter it gave me the inspiration to carry on and write this story until the very end and exactly one year on this story still means as much as it did the day I first started it.
> 
> You may not have all been here since the 17th November 2013 but you've been here regardless and it means everything. You may never have commented but your kudos and the gradual incline of hits has given me the motivation to continue when nothing else did, my beautiful Silent Readers<3
> 
> This story had no plan, it wasn't intended to be as long as it is, it wasn't destined to take up a year of my life, nor was it intended to get quite as personal as it did, but it did all of those things and I wouldn't change that at all because it'd take away from all of the things that have made niallsfriedchicken squeal and laugh and cry and more or less have an emotional breakdown and I wouldn't want to steal any part of this story from her because it's for her, even if I don't know her. Girl, this is for you. It's yours, forever and always<3 You're amazing<3
> 
> I expected to write this chapter with tears in my eyes as I said goodbye to an entire chapter of my life but as I close this story all I can feel is happiness because my characters are happy, all of them, and I hope all of you guys are as well because you all kept me happy as I wrote this monster and you deserve nothing less.
> 
> This story was never supposed to be a massive project and it isn't, not really. It's become a part of what I am, not what I do. It's everything to me and regardless of whether I'm happy with it or not it's me and I wouldn't change it for the world<3
> 
> This story has also been a secret, so welcome to my little world, my friends. Only three people that I know actually know that this has happened over the course of a year and I'm so glad I got to share it with them as much as I am honored to share it with you. Without you, there would be no story and I don't think people see that sometimes, but it's true, so thank you for letting me do what I love<3
> 
> I knew I was going to cry today but I didn't know it would be writing my author notes but anyway, for one last time; I hope you enjoy this chapter, I've enjoyed your company. Thank you so much.

Almost a year on, it’s strange looking at Max again across the court room.  He looks old, aged in the face, but there’s still the spike of a devilishly young smile on his lips when his sentence is read out.

Louis loses his case.

He expected it really, he never had his hopes up that he’d win, but seeing Niall’s face fall beside him had to be the worst thing he’s ever experienced.  There’d been a glimmer of hope in his eyes all that week building up to the trial but as the verdict is read out and Max is found not guilty, Niall slumps in his seat sadly.

There’d always been hope in Niall’s eyes about the prospect of Max being convicted and imprisoned for what he’d put Louis through but Louis doesn’t truly need that anymore.  He’s got Niall as he leans into the blonde boy’s side, squeezing his hand and smiling sadly before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.  “It’s okay.”  And it is, Niall’s made everything okay; everything.

Niall doesn’t seem to accept that though and the moment that they’re out of the court room he’s tugging his tie loose around his throat and stuffing it fiercely into his blazer pocket.  “I don’t get it.”  He runs a hand through his hair, tugging lightly at the blonde strands, squeezing his eyes shut.  “The evidence was all there!”  The frustration is evident in Niall’s voice and Louis has to bite his tongue to stop himself from correcting him, instead pulling Niall into a hug.

“Something was missing then, but it’s fine.”  Niall doesn’t look convinced as he wiggles himself out of Louis’ embrace and tightens his own arms around Louis’ waist, pulling him in and stroking at his hair softly.  “I’ve got you, that’s all that I care about now.  It’s over.”

Their hands stay entwined as they drive home, the radio quiet before Louis reaches across the centre console, flicking on the radio and singing along to it softly, the music barely louder than his voice.  He feels somewhat exposed, his voice bared for all it’s worth, but as he watches Niall steal glances at him as they trundle down the roads, he couldn’t care less.

“I always love it when you sing,” Niall whispers as Louis’ voice simpers off, the track changing and building in tempo as Louis looks to his side, confused at the blonde.  “It makes me feel at home.”

There’s very little that Louis can say to that without embarrassing himself so he instead bops his fingertips over Niall’s knuckles on the gearstick, grinning out at the early evening sun that’s starting to descend the sky.  “How do you think Zayn’s sister’s wedding went?”

They had been invited but when Louis’ court date came through the post just a week after the pastel invitation has, Niall downright refused to go, stating that he wouldn’t leave Louis, despite him begging the blonde to go and watch his best friend’s sister get married.  They were supposed to be going to the reception but even that was hanging in limbo, dependent on how the trial went but as Niall speeds his way out of London and towards the outskirts, the fields rolling on around them before a large estate covered in ivy comes to view, its windows gleaming and the fairy lights that lead to the building twinkling in the oncoming darkness, Louis knows they’re there and that lingering sense of unknown is gone as Niall takes his hand and presses his lips to Louis’ across the centre console.  “I’m so sorry you didn’t get justice, Lou.”

His eyes are sorrowful, as if he fears that the outcome of the trial was his fault and Louis can’t bear that, so he presses his hands to Niall’s cheeks, smoothing his fingers across the pale skin that he’s fallen in love with in the two years that he’s known Niall, before he presses a breathy kiss to Niall’s mouth.  “I’ve got you; justice means nothing to me now.”

It’s soft and warm and they’re smiling between themselves as their hands roam, their fingers twirling in strands of each other’s hair, groaning and grinning when they get caught up in each other; Louis’ hair finally cut short but long at the back as Niall’s fingers curl into the strands he loves so much.  He’s almost certain that Louis keeps them long purely for him because normally he’s pushing them away from his neck, muttering expletives about them until Niall plays with them, twirling them around his fingers and playing with the soft, silky strands.  Louis melts when he does that, it’s beautiful.

Niall’s hand is splayed against his heart when they pull apart; their breathing heavy and misting up the windows as their eyes flutter open, smiling wide at each other like they haven’t seen each other in years.  Every time that Niall closes his eyes and he’s apart from Louis, even for the shortest length of time, it feels like he’s missing out on something perfect and mystical and beautiful and it’s a strange feeling but its presence in his life for the past two years has been the most magical experience ever so as he takes Louis’ hand, lifting it to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to the delicate skin and closes his eyes, he lets the rush run over his skin again, igniting it in a fire that only Louis can manage, basking it in and clinging to it for as long as forever will last.

“Love you, Lou.”  Niall whispers, voice thick with unshed emotions as the last few days catch up with him.  Hearing Louis break down on the phone as he told his mum what had happened to him, hearing him laugh when Harry came over declaring that he refused to be away from Louis for much longer and that they were going to have a sleepover that night to make up for it, seeing Louis smile despite himself at the simplest of things as Niall worked to do little things to keep his mind off of the trial throughout the week.  Louis is perfect and his words can do little to match the brilliance he displays for Niall every second of the day but if he can make Louis blush with his cheeks pink and his smile breaking out across his face as he attempts to hide it, then he’s going to do it regardless.

They walk into the house hand in hand, the music playing in the room getting steadily louder the closer they get to the main entertainment room.  They’ve smiled at guests they recognise as they’ve walked, Niall saying hello to all of Zayn’s sisters as they’ve been littered about the room before Harry jumps them, clinging to Louis’ shoulder and pulling him into a hug, stroking at his hair and refusing to let Louis speak.

It’s endearing, watching Louis cling to Harry in a way that Louis doesn’t to him and it’s beautiful.  He’s not sure that’s the right terminology or whether he should feel jealous as Louis nuzzles into Harry’s neck, but he doesn’t, he just watches with a fond smile as Zayn comes up beside him, smiling at the two best friends hugging under the flashing lights of the DJ’s stand on the opposite side of the room.

“Good or bad?” It’s whispered, hushed, as if he doesn’t want to ruin the moment between Louis and Harry and Niall couldn’t be more thankful because the soft smile on Louis’ lips when Harry rests his hands on his waist and Louis’ come up around his shoulders is amazing as they just grin at each other, lost in a world of their own.

All that’s required is a shake of his head and Zayn’s tugging Niall into his side and whispering assurances that he’s not sure he needs when he watches Louis’ smile run free across his face like it hasn’t in months.  Watching Louis gives him hope throughout the night, hope in the fact that Louis can handle this, and sure, they didn’t get the result that they were hoping for but as Louis slides into Niall’s side, slipping under his arm and smiling bright with shining, fun-loving eyes, nothing will be able to change him, ever.  He’s Louis and he was never truly broken, not if he’s been able to put himself back together so seamlessly.

Liam and Alex come up to them later on in the night and Alex apologises for how the trial turned out but Louis is all smiles, patting Alex’s shoulder and telling him that it’s okay, that shit happens but it is what it is and the recital of Niall’s words on Louis’ tongue from all those months ago still makes his heart hammer in his chest, especially knowing that they’re inscribed across Louis’ chest.  It’s amazing what Louis can do to him, the things that no one else can.

The night is long but flows beautifully as Liam and Alex slip effortlessly into their little group before the music slows to a stop and everyone is ushered off of the dance floor, crowding around it instead, just Doniya and her husband stepping onto it for their first dance as a married couple and watching the pair flow across the floor makes Niall smile, catching eyes with Zayn who watches his sister adoringly.  They’ve had such a strong relationship all of their lives and watching her dance with her husband seems to release a tension that’s been holed up in him for months as he slips his arm around Harry’s waist and tips the curly boy’s head back to press an upside down kiss to his lips, smiling down at him.

“You know those fairytales you read as a child; that’s what Zayn and Harry are.” Louis whispers, his voice tinted with a scent of fruity wine that has him slightly tipsy on his feet as he wraps himself up in Niall’s space, not that the blonde minds at all.  “They defied the impossible and made it out okay on the other side.”  Louis is all smiles and affectionate touches as he slips their hands together between them, resting his head on Niall’s shoulder and watching their best friends instead of the bride and groom.

“You defied the impossible too.” Niall whispers, running his fingers over the long strands at the nape of Louis’ neck, feeling him purr under the ministrations, making him smile.

The smaller boy makes a noncommittal noise in his chest as the music starts to pick back up and the guests who had all stood up to surround the dance floor settle back into their seats, lost in the buzz of alcohol and chatter, drunken laughter drifting around the room as he and Louis stay still on the edge of the dance floor as _Hey There Delilah_ starts to play from the speakers.

Niall’s hand is spanning across Louis’ back before he can stop it or question if it’s okay and it’s then that he realises that this is all over.  That Louis is truly comfortable with him, that any of the fears he may have had in the past have been washed away with the fact that Max has been accused of rape and that his name has been tarnished.  He may have got away without a charge but he’s not escaped without some burns and scorches. 

The chords of the guitar twang in the air of the night as Niall’s hand drums the melody into Louis’ back, teasing his fingers over the warm skin, feeling Louis relax into him, his smile pressing into his neck as Niall holds him close.  Louis sings softly into his neck, accompanying the melody that Niall’s fingers are teasing into his flesh and it’s beautiful; the song, the meaning, the voice and the presence.  Everything. 

Louis is everything he’s ever hoped for and as the song comes to a close and the final guitar strings develop over the speakers and hit Niall’s ears, he feels everything click together.  He’s in a room full of strangers but everything feels so familiar somehow.  It’s indescribable and Niall doesn’t even attempt to figure it out, just pulls Louis closer and feels his lips work over his skin as he thanks him in sleepy whispers, lyrics falling from his lips as Niall relocates them out of the reception and into his car, grinning as he fastens his boyfriend into his car, smiling and waving and Harry and Zayn as they stand in the doorway of the grand house, Zayn’s family huddled around them and his father’s hand proudly placed on Zayn’s shoulder.  Everything is complete.

Louis twists himself into the fetus position on the front seat as Niall drives them home, his smile fond and endeared as Louis snores lightly into the air, his tie loose around his neck and his top button undone.  He’s so peaceful as he sleeps that when Niall pulls up into the driveway he’s looking for, slowing his car to a stop, he’s almost pleased that Louis’ eyes flutter open sleepily.

He blinks around, his eyes adjusting to the dim light that dances its way inside of the car, barely lighting anything but it’s enough to tell him he’s not where he thought he was and he feels his heart beat a little bit harder in his chest before he catches sight of a shock of blonde and his heart drums harder still, only for a different reason.  “I’m sorry for falling asleep, Nialler.”  He yawns softly.

He slides his hands down the curve of the steering wheel, the leather comforting against his fingers as he wills his voice to work and stay with him for a little bit longer as he looks out of his front windscreen nervously.  “It’s been a hard day,” Niall smiles, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching across the centre console to brush his fingertips across the increasingly less prominent dip of Louis’ cheekbone.  He’s put on weight gradually and watching as Louis actually fills his clothes again has been amazing and he’s just so beautiful; he wants Louis to be happy and healthy and he’s there now, he’s everything.  “I don’t blame you for falling asleep.”

“Doniya looked beautiful,” Louis’ eyes roll back into his head as he stretches his limbs out in front of him, his knees cracking and Niall wants to wince but Louis just chuckles, doing the same to his arms.  It’s become a thing that Niall has learnt to put up with, as much as he hates knowing that Louis is hurting himself for his future days on earth he knows he’ll get nowhere complaining against his stubborn boyfriend.  His voice is hoarse with disuse and Niall’s lips turn up endeared by the sleepy tone of his boyfriend’s voice.  “Danny is a lucky boy.”

Niall hums, grinning at the smaller boy as he pushes himself out of the car and walks around to Louis, opening the door carefully before teasing Louis’ tired form out of the car.  The cold night air seems to wake him up and he tugs his blazer around his torso, protecting it from the chill of the air as he hides his hands up his sleeves.  “Niall, where are we?”

There are streetlights around him that don’t fit the memories he has of either of their streets and there are two storey houses in front of them with white painted doors and chrome fittings and fixtures, white PVC windows dotted up the height of the red brick building.  “Niall?”

He turns his body around to look at Niall, a question in his eyes that’s answered as he dips his fingers into his blazer pockets to keep them warm and his fingers come in contact with a cold, smooth surface that could rival the chill in the air.  It’s flat and grooved and Louis’ heart hammers in his chest as he wraps his fingers around the foreign object in his pocket, pulling it out slowly as he holds his breath.

The metal fits seamlessly in his palm as he holds it and it lights up his entire being as he looks down at it, feeling its ridges dig into his skin as he raises his eyes up to Niall’s, mouth hanging open.  A small slither of metal sits peacefully on a tiny chain attached to the key, a simple engraving in its surface.   “Number 17.”

Niall smiles, reaching his hand out and taking Louis’ hand in his own, the key nestled between their two palms as Niall guides them the final few steps, steps slow and patient as Louis’ body slowly awakens.  “Number 17.”  Niall releases Louis hand, stepping up onto a single step outside of a freshly painted white door.  “Try it.”

Louis’ hands shake as he takes the key between his fingers, raising it to the keyhole in the door and watching as it slides effortlessly inside of the lock, clicking as it turns before the door slithers open, mismatched furniture from two separate homes entwined by two parts of the same entity coming into view as the bright shine of the hall light illuminates the ground floor of the building.  “Niall, I don’t- I don’t know what to say..”

“Say it’s okay,” Niall whispers, voice timid as Louis steps back out of the door and turns around to face him, his face shocked and painfully blank as the key sits snugly in his hand and silence falls between them.  The night air is cold and Niall can see his breath coming out in puffs of steam but looking across at Louis, it’s as if he’s stopped breathing and all Niall can do is reach out his hands but Louis gets there first.

“It’s more than okay,” Louis whispers, reaching out his palm for Niall’s hand and entwining them as he steps up closer to Niall, breathing in the scent on his clothes before standing on his tiptoes and pressing an innocent kiss to his lips, eyes shutting peacefully as he takes in the feel of the man he loves kissing him.  “It’s perfect, Niall.  So perfect.”

“Just like you,” Niall whispers, stroking a strand of hair behind Louis’ ear with a fond smile as Louis still stands slightly smaller than him despite the step he’s perched on.  “I’m sorry today couldn’t be everything we hoped it would be, but I hope this makes up for it, even just a little bit.”

Louis smiles, lifting his face up towards the man that has made everything inside of his life fit and make sense, the streetlight above him igniting the face of the man who could have saved him that night but instead gave him the greatest gift of all with his presence, even if he doesn’t know it yet.  “Thank you, Niall.  I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Niall shakes his head, looking down at the smaller boy with the biggest of hearts.  “I love you.”  His heart feels heavy with something indescribable at Louis’ words and the way he looks at him sometimes but it’s perfect, simply perfect.  Just like Louis.

“I love you too, Nialler.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are my own and if you have and comments, positive or negative, please let me know:) Don't be Silent Readers<3
> 
> Thank you so much, for everything<3

**Author's Note:**

> This story is in not related to actual events, that I know of anyway, and it is in no way affiliated with any of the characters described. 
> 
> Anyway, any and all mistakes are of course my own, as this is completely un-beta'd and if you have any comments, positive or negative, I'd love to hear from you!<3


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